


Day by Day

by GiveMeYourMilk



Series: Day by Day [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Arguing, Awkwardness, Bad Puns, Bickering, Biting, Canon Typical Language and Slurs, Coitus Interruptus, Domestic Fluff, Drinking Games, Dubcon Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Drinking, Hickeys, I Don't Know What to Tag This as Anymore, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, Lectures, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Miscommunication, Mood Whiplash, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, OT4, Payback, Phone Sex, Pillow Fights, Play Fighting, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Public Display of Affection, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Sequel, Sexual Fantasy, Sleepy Cuddles, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Texting, Three-Way Kisses, Tickle Fights, UNO, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, or well a slow descent into such
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 157,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiveMeYourMilk/pseuds/GiveMeYourMilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Seriously, did Gavin shit on your couch again or something? Jesus. You've been avoiding each other for the last two days and it's driving me nuts."</p><p>"But Geoff-"</p><p>"Listen, I don't care. Whatever it was, just. Fucking kiss and make up already, you assholes."</p><p>No one's debating that last weekend was stupid. Too much alcohol and not enough prior thought went into it. But it happened, and now she's kissed her and he's kissed him and it's taken a few days to get things sorted out but.<br/>Maybe it wasn't so bad of an idea after all?<br/>Maybe this could turn into something good?</p><p>Follow up to "A Deal's a Deal", which can stand alone, but this doesn't make much sense without it for context.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hangover

The rest of the weekend passed more or less uneventfully. Meg and Gavin were gone by the time the Jones woke up on Saturday, the blankets and pillows they borrowed when too drunk to drive home wadded in the corner of the couch. Michael made more than enough jokes about how they should get the couch cleaned.

He never quite managed to meet Lindsay's eyes when he said it.

They both knew damn well their friends had fucked on their couch the night before. They hadn't heard (most of) it, but if Meg had reacted to the previous night's events even a little like Lindsay had, it was guaranteed. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before - Michael recalled one occasion in particular where he'd banged on the wall and told them they could at least try to be subtle - but this time was different.

They were all going to need some time to process everything.

Lindsay was _more_ than happy to make sure Michael didn't have enough free time all weekend for his introspection to turn to sulking. He thanked her for that, though only after cussing her out for being mysteriously immune to the effects of friction.

Around 4 they both agreed that they needed to eat already, and that pizza delivery was the only option they had the brain or muscle power left for. A coin flip later Lindsay was the one waiting for it while Michael showered.

He came back out, towel still wrapped around his head, and snagged a slice before coming over the computer to loom over her.

"Whatcha workin' on," he asked through a mouthful of pizza.

"I've got like three weeks worth of VS stacked up," she sighed, leaning back against him. He leaned down for a quick kiss,  then went back to watching the footage playing on her screen.

Lindsay reached for his pizza hand and tried to guide the slice to her own mouth, earning a glare and a gentle swat to the head.

"Get your own, woman!"

"My legs are too weeeaaak. You must provide for me in my time of need," she whined dramatically.

"You only have yourself to blame," he said, voice devoid of sympathy. He took another, needlessly large, bite of pizza for emphasis.

"Curse you and your logic."

She clicked pause, pulled off her headphones, and hopped up for a slice, leaving Michael to lean against the back of her chair alone.

When she got back he hadn't moved, not even to take another bite of pizza. "You ok?" She asked, poking him in the side. "You're not falling back asleep on me aleady, are you?"

"What? Nah. I'm good, I'm good," he assured her, snapping out of it. "We got any beer left?"

She blinked as he brushed past her, wondering why he was so spacey. "Should be, bottom shelf." She watched him go, then sat back down as he started rattling things in the fridge, cursing under his breath.

When she looked back at the screen she was greeted by two separate angles of Gavin's face, locked in a falsely bewildered expression in the center of her editing program.

She glanced back over her shoulder at her husband then sighed.

By the time he'd turned on the TV and flopped across the theoretically clean half the couch, she had her phone out to text Meg. She typed, "So I think we made a mistake :/"

"There's a new Cutthroat Kitchen on!" Michael called, jerking her attention away from the phone.

It was normal to take a few days to sort out something like this, wasn't it? After all, she was going to have a hard time looking at Meg without blushing for a couple days, wasn't she?

She deleted the message instead of sending it, deciding to give him a while longer before she started worrying.

 

* * *

 

On Monday, the boys wouldn't talk to each other. Their words crossed here and there among banter while they were recording, but neither deliberately addressed the other or even looked at each other.

Ray was the only one who seemed to notice, and even that was probably because Gavin had been following him around like a lost puppy for ten minutes in Minecraft.

"Gavin, stop 'helping' me!" he shouted after the third time Gavin accidentally hit him with his pickaxe, this time causing Ray's avatar to disappear in an explosion of items.

"Aww, I'm sorry Ray, I've got your gubs."

"Just leave 'em, I'm like 10 feet away."

After they'd sorted out which items were whose, Ray started to mine again, only to have creeper fill his screen again.

"Damn't Gavin, I said I don't need your help!"

"But Xray…"

He heard a chair creak and knew Gavin was leaning back to look at him around Michael's back. He sighed, refusing to make eye contact. "I've got this, really. Shouldn't you be following Michael around or something?"

Gavin balked at the idea, toggling his crouch wildly in the game. "I just don't want to bother him right now."

Ray scoffed. "Well that's a fuckin' first."

"Need me to come take Gavin off your hands?" Ryan offered, going into third person view to show off his diamond sword to the camera for dramatic effect.

"I'll be good, I promise," Gavin said, still staring at Ray, though now in between Michael and his computer.

Michael hadn't moved, budged, or spoken through the entire exchange, instead just digging away wordlessly.

"You feeling ok man?" Ray asked quietly, leaning away from his mic.

"Yeah," he grunted, "just hungover."

Ray noticed Ryan watching their exchange and gave him a shrug, which he promptly returned. "Well ok Ryan," he said, leaning back into his mic, "I guess we're drawing straws for who's got custody of Gavin for the rest of the let's play."

"Heyyyy, come off it, I'll behave," Gavin whined.

Ryan chuckled evilly. "Oh, I know you will."

From his seat between it all, Michael finally let his shoulders relax again, glad the attention was off him. He still had no idea what to say to his best friend over the events of the previous Friday night, and the middle of a Let's Play was not the time to figure it out.

 

* * *

 

 

By Tuesday, everyone had noticed.

They weren't sure what they were noticing exactly, but Michael wasn't yelling when Gavin was in the room, and Gavin was giving Michael the widest berth he could while still sitting arm's reach away, and both of them seemed deaf any time Ryan turned up the crazy to try and goad them into action. All in all, it was just far too quiet in the office.

The morning's schedule called for filming a few week's worth of Things to Do in GTA. With no need for a pilot in any of them, Jack had asked to duck out, which was no surprise to anyone. What was a surprise is that when Geoff poked his head into the build room to ask Lindsay to replace him, she turned down the chance.

"Really? Not in the mood to come knock your husband off a bridge?"

"As much as I'd love to, I didn't get nearly as much of this editing done over the weekend as I should've. You guys go ahead without me."

"Well we need teams of two for this and it's you or Jeremy, so. Play it or edit it, your choice." Geoff clicked his tongue at her, eyebrows stretched as high as possible, and waved into the main room.

"Okay _fiiiiiine_ ," she answered, her voice so thick with annoyance it looped around to sounding sarcastic.

It took a few minutes to switch into Lindsay's account and load up the game on Jack's station, and another to get everyone into the game type and synced. By the time Geoff started explaining the rules, Lindsay and Ryan were so deep in conversation Geoff had to start over twice.

"Oh just pick your damn teams," Geoff sighed.

"I'm with Ryan," Lindsay said right away.

"Can I be on your team Geoff?" Michael called over, spinning in his chair.

Ray and Gavin looked at each other behind him, shrugged, and swapped till they were on the same team.

Normally, no one would have noticed. Gavin was a walking disaster in GTA, so it wasn't unusual for even Michael to try to get out of being partnered with him. But with the way they'd been ignoring each other, it didn't pass without a raised eyebrow from the remaining gents.

It didn't the second game either, when Michael was the first to yell "same teams!". Nor the third, when they conveniently wound up on opposite sides in a 3v3.

By the time they were back to another 2v2v2 game and Gavin hadn't even tried to declare Team Nice Dynamite, Geoff had had it.

"God damn't you two, what the fuck happened last weekend?"

Gavin squeaked in alarm.

Michael just went slackjawed. "Uh…"

"Seriously, did Gavin shit on your couch again or something? Jesus. You've been avoiding each other for the last two days and it's driving me nuts."

Gavin turned his chair away, making a long deflating noise away from the mic.

Michael started to open his mouth, only to catch sight of Lindsay's wide eyed death glare from beside Geoff. He wrinkled his nose at her but decided against telling Geoff nothing was up anyway; making up a story would cover far better than pretending they weren't super awkward around each other right now.

"Well, you see Geoff. Double dash is very serious business. And this asshole here thought it would be sooooo funny to toss a shell at the girls when we were two seconds from winning."

Ray barely covered his laugh.

Geoff's face grew even more frustrated. "So you mean to tell me it's Tuesday and you're still not talking to him over fucking Mario cars?"

Michael held his hands up in a shrug. "Mario Kart is serious fucking business Geoff. Do you have any idea what it's like to live with her when she's kicked your ass spectacularly?" he asked, motioning to Lindsay with his thumb.

Geoff rubbed his forehead and sighed as loudly as he could. "Okay whatever," he said, reaching to pour himself a shot of whiskey.

"But Geoff-"

"Listen, I don't care. Whatever it was, just. Fucking kiss and make up already, you assholes."

Gavin's chair toppled over less than a second later, sending his soda flying. Michael's roar of "GOD DAMN'T GAVIN!" as he shot to his feet, one pant leg soaked, brought a sigh of relief to the whole room.

 

* * *

 

 

"You go on ahead babe. We still gotta film a Play Pals for this week."

The gents and the builders had all left for the day, leaving Ray in the corner working on an Achievement guide and the other lads plus Lindsay packing up their stuff.

Michael didn't miss the hesitation in Lindsay's face as she glanced between him and Gavin before managing, "you sure?"

"Yeah, it's cool," he assured her. He wasn't so sure, but he knew he needed a few minutes to talk to Gavin, and the office after hours was the only place he was likely to get that chance for a while.

"I can hang around for a while. I've still got plenty I could edit."

"Naaahhh. You head on home. I'll get Meg or Tina to drop me off, y'know?"

She cast Gavin's back another unsteady glance, then nodded, giving her husband a quick kiss. "Alright, well, call me if you need a ride, ok?"

"Sure, sure."

He walked her to the door, flipped the on air light on, then walked to the building room to double check if anyone was there or not.

It was just them and Ray. Good. Ray he could handle, Ray wouldn't blink too much if they ducked into the sub room for a couple, probably wouldn't even notice since he was in the middle of trying for a particularly tricky achievement.

As if on cue, Ray seemed to realize he was alone with the other lads. He looked between Gavin, who was kneeling on his chair and twisting back and forth, transfixed by something on his screen, and Michael who was trying very hard to look interested in the Go board all of a sudden. He sighed through his nose, pulling his headphones off and hanging them carefully on his mic stand.

"I uh," he started, breaking the silence. "I'm just gonna go grab some stuff from the kitchen. For a few minutes." He stood up, pushing his chair back into his desk. "Don't ask me for anything because I'm not getting either of you shit."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Michael promised.

"Hey X-ray, bring me back a beer!" Gavin called as he shut the door, looking quite pleased at his own humor.

The smile faded the moment he realized he and Michael were alone.

Michael was staring very intently at the flat lines and "offline" on the audio monitor, hands on his hips, and taking deep breaths, a few of which managed to not come out as sighs.

The words fell out of his mouth all at once. "Look, Michael, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did any of it I mean the girls just made it sound like such a good idea and I-"

"-Wait, _you're_ sorry?" Michael asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Well of course I bloody am! I mean at first I didn't think it was that big of a deal, but you've just been-"

"Shit," Michael choked, stumbling into his chair and laughing nervously. "Holy shit. That's. That's a fucking relief."

"...Why is it a relief?"

"I spent the last three days thinking _you_ were pissed as hell at _me_ , boi."

"What?! Why would I be mad at you?!"

Michael's next laugh was a little more sincere. "Why? Why _wouldn't_ you? I mean I-" he took a deep breath and exhaled hard, running his hand back through his hair as he tried to figure out how to phrase the events of the previous Friday. "I jumped you man. I didn't even give you a chance to say no. I…" another long exhale, then he swallowed, looking more confused than anything, "I think I gave you a hickey for christ's sakes."

"Oh for sure," Gavin agreed, pulling aside the collar of his polo to reveal the purple splotch dominating his right collarbone. Michael's eyes went wide, then he averted them, feeling his face grow hot. "But Turney gave me a matching set on the other side. 'Sides, it's not like I stopped you."

"I didn't really give you a chance to stop me."

"Well, not much of one, no. But…" He stopped and blinked. "Wait, Lindsay didn't tell you, did she?" The question was definitely one of surprise that Michael was still out of the loop, rather than accusing her of tattling.

"Tell me what?"

"Oh bollocks. Shit."

"Tell me _what_?"

"About the trade!"

"What trade?"

Gavin pressed his lips together, immediately regretting saying anything. Lindsay's cover story had been a good one, even if he couldn't quite remember it now… why hadn't he left well enough alone?

"What trade?" Michael repeated, his tone growing more irritated.

Gavin started to let out another deflating whine as he sunk lower in his chair.

"God damn't Gavin, _what trade_?!"

No sooner did Michael put his hand on the arm of his chair to get up and yell at Gavin properly, than realization shot across his face.

"Wait. Did you tell them… Did you tell them we'd kiss if they did it first?"

"It was their idea!"

"Gavin."

"It really was though!" He squeaked as Michael stood up, quickly gauging if there was enough room under his desk to hide.

"Gavin, you're a goddamn _genius._ "

"...What?"

"Well I mean, you're still a fucking idiot, but I've gotta hand it to you on this one."

"You're not mad?"

Michael laughed. "Oh no, I'm still mad. But it's kind of offset by having so much sex over the weekend my dick still hurts."

"Mine too," Gavin muttered, straightening out his pants as he sat back up a bit.

"Shit. We need to be careful to only use this power for good."

Gavin chuffed back at him. "Honestly, I feel like we've had our fun and we should just walk away from all this. I think I've got a once per lifetime limit on making out with guys."

That seemed to snap Michael out of deep thought. "Eh, yeah, you're probably right. It's gonna be hard enough to keep this secret without adding to it."

Before Gavin could respond, there was a loud knocking on the door, followed by it creaking open and Ray poking his head through. "Mom, dad, you done fighting yet?"

"Shut the fuck up, Ray," Michael shouted, flopping back into his chair. Gavin grabbed an empty can from his desk, hurling it towards the door and missing Ray by several feet.

"Cool, glad we answered that question."


	2. Third Time's a Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought you guys said that was the last time."
> 
> "That was the plan."
> 
> "Well when did that stop being the plan?"

They didn't hang out that Friday.

Everything was fine around the office the rest of the week, with Geoff believing their spat really had been over "some stupid Nintendo bullshit" and the others too familiar with Michael's temper to doubt it had been something that simple.

But still, they didn't hang out that Friday. No discussion, no one asked, no one questioned it, they just knew there was too much air that needed to be cleared.

It was Sunday by the time the girls had a chance to go out for coffee. They both knew they wanted to talk about things and that that was why they'd met up, but neither could quite find words.

"So uh. How's Gavin?" Lindsay ventured the third time their conversation lulled to a dead silence.

Meg laughed - just a small giggle of disbelief - and shook her head. "You work in the same office as him," she pointed out.

"Not when I can help it I don't," she joked back.

"Fine," she sighed. "He's been alright. A little jumpier than normal, but no worse than he is for a few days after he comes back from England."

"So just standard issue Gavin weirdness, then."

"Basically."

The conversation died again, with Meg taking a long slow drink of her iced coffee while Lindsay stared absently across the Starbucks, her chin resting in her hand.

"You're a pretty good kisser, you know."

Lindsay snapped to attention at that, grabbing at her drink, then putting her hands in her lap, then back to her drink again as she stared wide-eyed and flustered at her friend. "I, uh."

"We should just stop beating around the bush."

"Well, yeah," Lindsay agreed, finally settling on crossing her arms. "I just, uh, thought we'd take the time to figure out what kind of bush it was before then, so."

Meg sighed again, looking down at the table. "I know. But we're getting nowhere on our own."

"Yeah. You're right." She slumped down in her chair a bit, staring off at the same patch of wall as before for several seconds. "...You're not bad yourself," she said finally, "I just, well."

"It was weird kissing a girl?" Meg offered. While she had her suspicions about a few people, and another couple were out to the office but not the fans, Meg was the only openly not straight person in the company. She'd been prepared to get into this sort of awkward conversation from the moment she'd suggested the trade to Lindsay, no matter how frustrating it had the potential to be, but she trusted her friend not to pull any of the stupid crap she knew was inevitable from her boyfriend.

"Actually that's not even it."

"...Oh?"

"I'm not sure what it is. I mean, I've kissed people I wasn't with before for theater…"

"But none you were already close to."

Lindsay waved one arm in a _voila_ motion. "Exactly."

"Don't worry about it. It was basically acting anyway. Think of it as an improv show. One night only, nothing scripted."

"I guess. But what if it doesn't wind up being just one night?"

Meg snort-giggled. "There's no way in hell the guys are going to fall for that again."

"Iiiiiii wouldn't be so sure about that," Lindsay said, pursing her lips nervously.

"Really."

"Well, yeah. I mean Michael wasn't there for most of it, and he's seemed pretty chill with everything, even since Gavin told him what really happened."

Meg rolled her eyes. "Knew he couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"Tell me about it."

"...But in other words, you're wondering if we should offer them the trade again, with both of them in on it this time."

Lindsay didn't respond for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah I mean, I guess that's about it."

Meg sighed, setting her drink down and rubbing her forehead. "On one hand, it would probably be worth it. On the other… I don't really want this becoming a regular thing."

"Oh, me either," Lindsay said quickly. "Don't worry."

"I'll think about it."

* * *

Lindsay's head sunk into the back of the couch, pressed down by the force of the girl on top of her. She was breathless already, reduced to quick, noisy gasps each time Meg's lips left her a gap before pressing to hers again.

To say Meg had her pinned down was too generous. The older girl was on her knees, straddling Lindsay's lap, but holding herself high enough that she was leaning down to kiss her. One hand was pressed to Lindsay's collarbone, helping hold her down, while the other was planted on the couch beside her head to steady herself. Lindsay's own hands were tight around Meg's thighs, somewhere between keeping her in a place where their heads wouldn't have to crane too hard, and simply clinging tight instinctually.

She heard Michael's voice to her right, husky and barely above a whisper. "Holy shit babe. Holy shit. You look amazing." His tone was at once encouraging and mesmerized, his fingers tracing patterns along her arm, squeezing it firmly at each pass of her shoulder. He was leaning so close she could almost feel his breath on her skin, and the thought alone made her shiver even more than his words already did.

After the second time making a trade deal with their boys, only a few days after their talk at Starbucks, both girls had sworn they were done and that their friendship mattered too much to risk it getting weird for the sake of little fun in the sack. But that had been two weeks ago, and in the time since they'd found themselves sitting a little closer and hugging a little more often, to the point that today they'd wound up thigh to thigh on the couch the whole movie and all four of them had fit on one leg of the couch for the first time.

As the credits rolled, Meg had cast Lindsay a smirk that made her freeze to her seat. Then she'd leaned up to Lindsay's ear and whispered, "Think we should?"

The younger girl had done her best not to look overwhelmed at the suggestion, giving a nonchalant shrug. "I mean, if you want." She could only guess what Meg might have in mind. The second time was supposed to be the last time, even more so than the first time was supposed to be, yet there was something familiar and beckoning in the way Meg's eyes met hers from the gap past her glasses frames that told her they'd both had a change of heart.

"Who wants to play a game?" she asked, leaning forward and looking first at Gavin, then around Lindsay to Michael, who yawned in response.

"I dunno, I'm gettin' pretty tired. Whatcha thinking?"

"I'm thinkiiiiing," she said, putting her hands on Gavin and Lindsay's thighs and squeezing slightly, "first person to crack loses."

"To crack?" the boys asked in tandem, though Gavin's voice tightened to a squeak as her hand slid up his leg.

"First one to crack," she repeated, turning to Gavin and giving him a smirk.

Meg was half on his lap before he can ask again, one hand still dangerously high on his leg and the other cupping his cheek to meet her midway. She kissed him and whatever objections he was trying to have were muffled into a single content sigh, his own hand weaving into her hair to hold her close. Lindsay whistled from behind them, causing Meg to break into giggles and Gavin to hold her tighter, trying to win control of her attention.

Michael gave a skeptical cough from behind his wife, who tilted her ear closer so he could talk into it.

"I thought you guys said that was the last time," he whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"That was the plan," she agreed.

"Well when did that stop being the plan?"

"Who said it had?"

"I-" Michael let out a confused grunt, blinking a few times. "Well then what's going on?"

"Clearly she's kissing her boyfriend."

"Well I see that. You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"...Lindsay..."

"I mean you're jumping to conclusions pretty fast there. Do you really want to see us make out again that badly?"

He glared at her, though she could barely see it out of the corner of her eye, taking several seconds to consider his answer. He did, that was a fact, but it also frustrated him that he did. That the sight of her with one of their best friends aroused not jealousy but intrigue in him, that he knew the feeling of her kiss so well that there was something beautiful in a way he couldn't explain about seeing it from the outside.

"What's it going to cost me?" he asked finally, sarcasm tinting his words. He let his lips brush the shell of her ear as he spoke. He felt like he knew the answer already - that he would be expected to switch places with Meg, that once again it would be him with his lips pressed to Gavin's, feeling him unable to stop smiling or laughing long enough to kiss back properly, that he'd become even more familiar with how his best friend tasted than the odd level they'd reached already over the course of the last month. The idea had his heart racing in a weird mix of apprehension and readiness that tied up his stomach and made keeping his breathing steady difficult.

Lindsay leaned her head back against Michael's shoulder, tilting until her nose was nestled under the back edge of his jaw, and rested there a moment, not quite kissing but still touching his skin. She let out a long, quiet sigh as she lost herself in thought, followed by a soft gasp as her husband raised his hand to brush his fingers down the exposed side of her neck. She had several ideas of what to answer, more than a few of which made her wet her lips nervously. But a piece of her knew that, despite all intention, this was something she wanted to do regardless of whether the boys reciprocated. She loved being with Michael more than anything, but something about kissing Meg had her addicted on a way she wasn't yet sure if she should be scared of. The fact Michael clearly enjoyed watching her do so was just icing on the cake. If the boys wanted to give them a show in return, she'd let them decide for themselves, just as she was now.

She felt the words leave her mouth, whispered against his jaw, almost before she was aware of thinking them. "You have to let me."

He blinked as though confused, then, catching her eye (the other still hidden against his shoulder), said a single "oh" as comprehension sunk in.

Lindsay picked herself up off his shoulder she raised her eyebrows at him. "Well?"

He smirked back, hoping his face didn't betray the way his heart was hammering in his throat. "Whatever you want, babe."

She smiled, turning further to kiss him firmly, the hand between them reaching for his to squeeze it. She held tight for a moment, spinning his ring on his finger affectionately.

"Enjoy the show," she purred against his lips as she pulled away again.

He clicked his tongue and winked in response, squeezing her hand back before letting go.

"Excuse me sir," Lindsay announced in her most formal, posh tone of voice, "I believe you'll find it's my turn with the dear Miss Turney."

"It what?" Gavin sounded bewildered as he pulled back, leaving Meg to giggle into his shoulder.

"Me want kiss pretty lady."

Meg only giggled harder, giving Gavin another quick peck on the lips. "Pretty lady wants to kiss Lindsay too," she smiled, pressing her forehead to her boyfriend's. She could hear him gulp, both the actual noise and the distinctive gap in his breathing, and watched his eyes flicker between hers.

"Again?" was what he finally managed.

"If that's ok with everyone here, then yes."

Gavin glanced between the others - at Lindsay, who was casting him an almost predatory smirk over Meg's shoulder, and at Michael, who shrugged as obviously as he could - before meeting Meg's eyes again. "Well I don't see why not!"

Meg was straddling Lindsay in a flash, in no small part due to Lindsay practically picking her up and putting her back down there. Both girls laughed as their foreheads sunk together, noses rubbing for a quick moment before their lips met.

Only a few minutes later, things had escalated to Lindsay's head pinned to the couch by Meg's more zealous technique. Michael was petting her arm softly as he watched, whispering encouragement as he committed every detail to memory. Gavin was still hovering a few feet away, though the loudness of his breathing betrayed that he was also very much paying attention.

They didn't have alcohol or even premeditation as an excuse this time. They'd hardly drunk that night - barely enough for Meg to taste the hint of rum through the diet coke flavoring Lindsay's lips, and certainly not enough to cloud any of their judgement. Yet here they were, legs and tongues tangled, Meg slowly sinking on to Lindsay's lap properly with every passing moment.

It was around when Lindsay's quick breaths started to come out as low moans that Michael couldn't contain himself anymore. He shifted forward, stabilizing himself on the back of the couch, and leaned in to press his lips to Lindsay's shoulder. Hearing the happy noise she let out at the motion (and Meg's echoing giggle) only encouraged him, so he started to journey up her collar bone toward her neck.

The girls' kiss tilted to give room for Michael's head as he lavished Lindsay's neck. He revelled in the obviousness of her pulse and the little twitches of her muscles as she and Meg only grew more passionate above him, and at the little noises he hadn't heard until his ear was so close - the smacks and pops and squeaks of an unbridled kiss without the sound of his own desperation for air drowning it out. Lindsay's moans grew louder and longer under his touch, her motions slowing noticeably from the distraction.

Michael felt her head shift again and glanced up enough to make out Meg's fingers combing back into his wife's bangs, pushing them out of the way and then gently controlling her by her grip there. As he watched he could see Meg's teeth take hold of Lindsay's lower lip, stretching it gently till it slipped from her grasp, then mimicking the motion with her lips. He groaned, as much from the sight as from feeling Lindsay's neck vibrate with a noise of her own. Without really thinking, he let his hand find hers where she was loosely holding onto Meg's leg and squeezed tightly, only to feel her squeeze their friend just as hard.

He heard Meg chuckle, looked up again to see her smirking knowingly down at him, then felt a lump form in his throat as she wiggled her hips in their grasp in a way that just had to also leave her grinding on Lindsay's lap. Their eyes connected for only a second or two, but as they did, he felt certain he'd forfeited all control of the situation to her, and that his actions were now second to Meg's.

Not that he was complaining.

As he watched, her hand steered Lindsay's head further back, then returned to the couch as she leaned to kiss the other side of her teammate's neck.

Lindsay went so limp that her hand only stayed on Meg's thigh by virtue of Michael's holding it there.

"Oh… oh my god…"

For several seconds she was a mumbling mess, any attempts at moaning let alone speaking cut off by the distraction of two sets of lips working her over, making her lose track of who was where.

"Shit," she breathed, "oh god, _wow_. Michael… Meg…" She moaned out each of their names in turn before devolving into another round of breathless curses and whimpers.

Her hand worked its way free of Michael's grasp, groping at what parts of him she could find along her journey to his neck, working her way into his hair to hold him close. Meg was already on top of her so there wasn't much close for her to get pulled, but Lindsay's other hand found its way into her hair all the same, holding onto them both desperately.

Michael murmured a string of approving not-quite words into her neck, brought forth instinctively by her familiar grip on him, each punctuated by an audible pop as he sucked at her skin. Lindsay panted louder at each kiss, brain completely lost under their touch.

"Alright, well, I guess I'm just chopped liver then, aren't I."

Gavin's voice caught halfway through the sentence, as though he'd been psyching himself up to speak and lost his nerve the moment anyone looked over at him. He cleared his throat then squared his brow, doing his best to look annoyed rather than like he was pouting.

Meg let her hand slip from Lindsay's hair and sat up, trying not to roll her eyes. "You can join in any time, you know," she teased, holding an arm out towards him.

"Yes, well, there's not really a whole lot of room, now is there?"

She glanced over her shoulder, indicating that the space behind her was completely unoccupied, but didn't bother speaking yet because she knew from his tone he wasn't done.

He followed her gaze and got halfway through imagining sandwiching her between himself and Lindsay before snapping back to Meg's face, wanting to finish his point before he forgot. "Besides, Michael lost the game already didn't he?"

"Did he?" she asked innocently.

"Well clearly he cracked first," he insisted, voice catching again. He motioned to where Michael was still nuzzled into Lindsay's neck, casting Gavin an annoyed glance and punctuating it by making her squeak in delight from some unseen technique. "Unless you're using some bloody definition of 'crack' that I don't know it seems rather like he gave in first."

Meg giggled. "Okay. Then you should punish him."

He was too dumbstruck by the suggestion to respond aside from staring at her wide-eyed. For a moment he just sat there, trying to process it and figure out what punishment might mean in this context or why he was supposed to be the one doling it out, but nothing came to mind. Or rather, everything that came to mind he was still a bit confused about why it sounded like a reasonable idea.

"You punish him, it was your game," he said finally.

Lindsay was paying more attention than he thought, because she started laughing at that, nudging Michael away slightly. "You heard him, babe. You've been a bad boy. Go to your room," she said mock-sternly.

Michael gasped dramatically. "Oh no. I'll be good, I promise."

Meg chimed in, sounding as disappointed as she could. "But you lost the game."

"Aww. Well if I have to go to my room, can I at least bring Lindsay with me?"

All three of them burst out giggling, which gave Gavin just enough time to start pouting again before Meg grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him towards herself and Lindsay. She couldn't actually drag him, but he got the message fast, face lighting up at having his girlfriend's attention back.

Once he was almost shoulder to shoulder with Lindsay, Meg started to shuffle legs around, giving Gavin a quick kiss and bracing herself on him as she put one knee between his. By the time she was done she was straddling the same pair of legs she'd been sitting between ten minutes prior.

Her hands on Lindsay's shoulder and Gavin's chest, Meg smirked at them both, daring them to be the one to make the next move. Gavin reached up to stroke the side of his girlfriend's neck slowly with his thumb.

He and Lindsay cast each other a knowing glance from the corners of their eyes. They weren't sure how they already had a signal for something they'd never done before, but their meaning was very clear.

They pulled Meg forward and down in tandem, pinning her to their chests with one arm each, and started kissing at either side of her neck. The angle didn't work quite as well but it still gave her a good taste of what Lindsay had enjoyed.

Lindsay was as rough as ever, her teeth leading on the first trail of kisses she left along Meg's neck, firm but not enough for pain. Gavin was almost too gentle on the other side, peppering feather-light kisses on all the most ticklish parts of her neck, making her twitch sharply every few touches. "Knock it off," she whispered, tilting down to kiss him properly.

"'Kay," he mumbled back, though he still made sure to tickle her one last time when he returned to her neck.

As wound up as she already was from the time spent making out with Lindsay, it didn't take long for Meg to be reduced to sighs and moans thanks to the two mouths working her neck over. Her sounds were so much higher and louder than the others' that, among the haze, both Jones found themselves wondering how they'd never overheard her on the nights they stayed over. Lindsay was holding onto her tighter and tighter, until part of Meg's shirt was balled in her fist. Her kisses were growing less cautious; at least one red bruise was already forming above Meg's collarbone, where she'd have to be careful about her wardrobe choices the next few days.

Michael was still poised half behind, half beside Lindsay, watching her intently. Any place his kisses would really matter was out of easy reach, so he kept himself attached by firmly massaging Lindsay's thigh and occasionally leaning in to kiss her shoulder or back. He felt like the sea of noises in front of him, coupled with being able to touch Lindsay but knowing he was going to have to wait his turn again, was making him dizzy and desperate, but he didn't yet want to pull her away.

Instead he found his hands inching higher on her body, across her hips and her stomach, until he was squeezing her through her bra, his face buried into the back of her shoulder and his breathing too hard and hot against her.

Lindsay gasped hard, pulling away from Meg's neck and nuzzling there while she caught her breath for a moment. She brought her lips up in search of Meg's again, and they shared another shaky, too hot kiss.

When she dropped her head again, her lips found not Meg's neck, nor her husband's. Instead she let her face nestle into the center of their shared hug, and for the barest of seconds, press to Gavin's neck.

She froze just as fast, realizing her mistake, but he'd already noticed. Meg hadn't, and tried to hold him to keep kissing her neck, but Gavin pulled back just a bit, he and Lindsay staring at each other with glazed but wide eyes, Lindsay struggling to keep her face straight with Michael's hands still all over her.

"I," she started between breaths, but trailed off before she could think of anything to say.

"I think," Gavin said, swallowing hard to clear his voice, "I think we should go home, Turney." He tried not to betray the confusion he was feeling, and from the look she was giving him, he could tell Lindsay felt the same - not fear, just worry that they were getting too caught up in the moment.

"You guys know we don't care if you fuck on our couch, right?" Michael's voice was still muffled against Lindsay's shoulder; he was still oblivious to the stare his wife and best friend were exchanging.

"I. I know, boi. But I'd like to wake up in- in my _own_ bed," he answered, stumbling over the words.

"Okay fiiiine," Meg whined at him, then leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. "We'll go home first," she giggled.

Lindsay just gave a slight nod before she finally broke eye contact, turning to untangle herself from Michael and let her head lean atop his.

 _The second time was supposed to be the last time_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm in the market for an editor/beta for this fic. I've got a beta for everything else, but he doesn't do RPF, so I'd love to hear from anyone who seriously would like to dig through for typos and continuity problems. (Edit: got one! Thank you so so so so much, I feel so much better writing in a fandom knowing I have someone to double-check me).
> 
> Second, I have no idea how uh, far this fic's going to go. I mean, I think I know, but basically I guess this is me warning people that while it's going to be a few chapters down the line, that "Rating may change" is going to come into play.
> 
> Anyway, I'm going to do my best to keep pulling out at least one chapter a week. I've got the next two figured out already, so hang on tight. I'm really excited to know so many others are down for TurnFreeJoneses :D


	3. The Wind Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get back to normal(?)

Whatever lingering weirdness there was between Lindsay and Gavin got sorted out on Monday. Most of the others were distracted by individual projects or still at lunch and Lindsay was hanging out on the couch in anticipation of filming a few Gos afterward. For five minutes they made absurd hand gestures at one another across the room, indicating through charades that it had been an accident and that no fouls would be counted. Then Ryan had noticed their silent communication and had started adding his own signals into it, which had derailed the whole discussion and turned it into a puppet show fit for a horror movie in a hurry.

The next week went by in a blur. Everyone expected a few twelve hour days before holidays and conventions, so with the exception of the hour or so on Tuesday afternoon where the whole building mysteriously managed to run out of red bull, no one had any complaints.

(By the time Joel admitted he'd hidden all four of the remaining cases under the Patch desk, Jeremy had already returned from Costco with a back seat full of red bull and his weekly slew of questions for Burnie about if gopher was a position that could earn him a company credit card.)

The holidays saw most the company scattered to the corners of the country, or even the world in a few cases. Gavin and Meg had run off to the UK to introduce her to his family and film a few Slow Mo videos, promptly falling off the radar everywhere but twitter.

True to form, the first thing everyone did when they got back into town was get dinner and see a movie together. As nice as it was to see family and get away from work for a few days, by now the office felt like family and most of them weren't used to being apart that long anymore.

"No really, he's like a lost puppy without you," Meg told Michael, earning a glare from Gavin, whose mouth was too full of pasta to object. "Every few minutes it was 'oh Michael would like that' or 'I'll take a picture of that for Michael'. I think he was making Dan jealous."

"I was not," he objected after a hasty swallow. "I said that maybe twice."

Michael laughed. "Once for each of the t-shirts you got me?"

"I can take them back you know."

"To England?"

"From you."

"They'll look like tents on you."

"Smee would love a new scratching post."

"You missed me too, right Gavin?" Lindsay asked before they could escalate further. She fluttered her eyelashes at him to emphasize that she was kidding.

"Oh god no," he answered, pretending to gag at the mere thought.

"Well  _I_  missed you, Lindsay," Meg assured her, reaching across the table to pet her hand for a moment.

"Thank you, Meg. I missed you too."

"We know," Michael said into his beer glass, "you've both said that like a dozen fucking times in the last hour."

Both girls stuck their tongues out at him, then dissolved into giggles before returning to their food.

"Seriously though, don't think I won't take them back."

* * *

It was hard to remember the last time everything hadn't been a time crunch around the office. It wasn't quite stressful anymore, with the worst over and everyone back from vacation, but they still had to make up for lost time before things could go back to normal.

By the time Friday night rolled around, everyone was exhausted out of their minds. Still, the Joneses made their way over to Gavin and Meg's house for a movie night. It was time to get their routine back, and while televisions were the one thing Michael had them outstripped on, Meg refused to leave Penny alone again so soon after their trip.

Meg had managed to fall asleep against Gavin before the first movie ended. As the credits rolled Lindsay nodded toward her from the other couch and asked, "Should we head on home then?"

Gavin shrugged. "Nah, we already rented the other, if you're up for it we can still put it on. I think Turney caught it in theaters with Ashley anyway, she'll be alright."

Lindsay looked to Michael, who shrugged as well. "I'm tired, but movies don't require me to do shit. We might as well."

"In that case, I'm going to go steal some ice cream," Lindsay announced, pushing herself off the couch and giving her husband's hair a quick ruffle.

"Hey, get me some too!" he called after her over the back of the couch.

"Get your own!"

They were just loud enough to wake Meg up from her nap. She stretched and yawned into Gavin's shoulder, muffling her words as she asked, "Oh, is it over already?"

"Yeah, you missed all the best parts," Michael told her, shaking his head in disappointment. "For shame."

"You should have woken me up," she complained half-heartedly, rubbing her eyes and looking around. "Where'd Lindsay go?"

"To pilfer some of your ice cream," Gavin answered.

"Oh man, that sounds really good right now," she said, her sentence broken by another yawn. "I'm gonna get some too. You want any, Gavino?" She kissed his cheek as she asked, then stood up, straightening out her glasses and shirt.

"Nah, I've had my fill."

"I'll take some," Michael said from behind her.

"I wasn't asking you," she teased.

He scoffed in mock exasperation. "God, everyone's so rude today."

"If you really want some you should come take a look, there's too many flavors for me to remember."

"Well then you should just bring me a bowl with a scoop of each."

"I'm thinking… no."

"Hey babe!" he shouted, tilting his head back to project toward the kitchen. "Get me a scoop of everything!"

"I'll get you a scoop of my foot up your ass!" Lindsay yelled back, laughing.

Meg shook her head, laughing under her breath as she made her way to the kitchen. It always amazed her how the others could wind up in loops of making the same insulting jokes every weekend and it never seemed to get old, either to her or each other. It was an odd brand of familiarity that was extremely comforting in some way.

Gavin had undoubtedly transitioned from being just a good choice to synonymous to home in her mind. She felt like she couldn't remember what life was like before living with him anymore and had grown to resent any time they were separated for more than a day. But she also had to admit that the same elements that had drawn her to Rooster Teeth to begin with felt like they'd been distilled and concentrated into their little quartet and their playful arguing - and Lindsay helping herself to their freezer - added a certain something to her life that just made everything feel more vibrant.

Meg found herself pondering this fondly as she stood in her kitchen, grinning uncontrollably and gnawing loosely on the edge of her bowl while she waited for Lindsay to finish with the ice cream scoop. Then she found herself hugging her friend from behind. "Seriously, I missed you," she told her, face nestled into her shoulder blades.

She let out a satisfied sigh when Lindsay squeezed her arms with hers and answered, "You fucking better have."

In the mean time, Michael had drawn the imaginary short straw for swapping out the redbox movies and was watching the girls as he slipped the first disc back into its sleeve. "D'aww, isn't that cute," he said toward Gavin, his voice distorted into baby talk that read as  _eww they probably have cooties now_.

Gavin glanced over toward the kitchen and chuckled. "Yeah they're rather good at that."

"Did  _you_  miss  _me_  Gavvy?" Michael asked in the same tone.

"Oh christ, not this again."

He put on a fake pout, turning to plop down on the couch next to Gavin instead of his own seat on the other. "Awww does that mean you didn't miss me?"

"We really don't have to go over this every time one of us leaves town."

"Oh woe is me, I am struck down by this act of betrayal. Surely it is a mortal wound, and here is where I die."

"Oh would you come off it," Gavin grumbled as Michael suddenly toppled over onto him, leaning heavily into Gavin's chest and adding a few dying gurgles for dramatic effect. He knew from experience that trying to push him off was useless, though if he played his cards right, he could slip out from under him once his guard was down or just get Lindsay to help him out. "Micoo, this is ridiculous. Get off of me."

"Who's getting who off?" Lindsay asked, standing over them with her ice cream in one hand and her spoon in her mouth.

"You're getting him off of me," Gavin informed her, trying very unsuccessfully to cross his arms despite the dead weight on his chest.

Michael gave another death rattle over being jostled.

"I don't know, he looks pretty comfortable to me."

"Yes, well,  _I'm_  not comfortable."

"Well, fine, if we're going to make it all about you. Michael, come on, you're crushing his feeble manchild skeleton."

Gavin scowled at her. Michael just went limper.

"C'mon babe, open up. I've got ice creaaaam."

He opened one eye, evaluating the trap being set for him.

She scooped up a large spoonful and held it out to him, waving it enticingly.

"Alright, fine," Michael sighed like he'd just been asked for a favor they'd both surely owe him for later. He sat up slightly, just enough to lean forward and let Lindsay feed him the bite, then scooted back a bit and situated his back against Gavin's chest again, his feet up on the seat.

"What're you doing?!" he complained, squirming to try and push him back off.

"What? This is better, right? I mean I'm more comfortable now, I figured you would be too."

"Well, yes, but-"

Lindsay dropped onto the couch sideways before he could finish his sentence, leaning back into Michael. "No, he's right. This  _is_  pretty comfy." She took another bite of her ice cream as Gavin half growled, half trilled a whine from the bottom of the pile, then added, "Plus the view of the TV is way better."

"Oh for sure," Michael agreed, letting the arm he had at the back of the couch wrap over her shoulders affectionately. She smiled, tilting her head back to kiss his cheek, then reached back to offer him another spoonful.

"Alright well, I've clearly lost this battle," Gavin sighed from beneath them, resigning himself to his fate.

"Yup," Lindsay laughed.

"Could you all at least let me get my arm and the damned remote out from under you?"

By the time they'd finished shuffling around, Meg had turned off the kitchen lights and appeared over them, rocking in place and eating her ice cream as she cast them the highest eyebrows she could.

"Don't you dare," Gavin warned. He shifted his left arm again, trying to find some place to put it that would keep it mostly off Michael.

"Oh I wasn't going to," she promised, coming over and sitting on the opposite arm of the couch instead. "It'd be too hard to finish my ice cream if I did," she added, most the sentence muffled by the next bite she took.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, but couldn't help but smile back at her when he noticed her grinning his way. They blew kisses at each other before turning their attention back to the TV and finally starting the movie.

Only a few minutes in, Lindsay and Michael had finished off the bowl and she slid it onto the coffee table, yawning as she laid back onto him. Gavin had given up complaining now that they were laying in a way where he could still breathe and instead was watching peacefully, trading occasional quips with the other two, albeit in much quieter tones than they were accustomed to.

Soon, Meg's bowl and glasses were added to the table and she crawled over, letting herself flop face-first into the younger girl's chest. They laughed for a moment until she got herself settled, head nestled under Lindsay's chin, feet waving lazily in the air, her hand reaching behind both the Jones to rest on Gavin’s knee. It took some doing to maneuver it back under Michael, but Gavin’s hand joined hers, stroking it softly with his thumb. She couldn't see him past their friends in the center of the pile, but she still knew him well enough to be sure he was smiling down at her, rather than paying any attention to the movie.

Gavin drifted off at some point. He couldn't be quite sure when, but when he woke again, the movie wasn't over. However, he had no idea what was going on, and someone had clearly turned down the volume so it sounded a room away. He looked around slowly, finding that he was still pinned down by his friends and girlfriend. His hand had started to go numb from their weight on his arm, but was still laced into Meg's. From how limp her grip was, he could tell she'd also fallen asleep, though it was no surprise since she was usually the first to bed anyway.

Michael must have felt him stirring, because he muttered a happily sarcastic, "Good morning sleeping beauty."

Gavin snorted quietly in amusement, whispering back, "I wasn't out that long, was I?"

"Not sure. Think I fell asleep for a bit too."

"Should we just turn off the movie?"

"I already restarted it once."

"...oh."

"Hey, don't worry about it. I could have gotten up and gone home ages ago, but I didn't want to wake the girls." He moved his head aside so Gavin could see them more easily. In the dim light of the TV he could see that Meg had slid up further, her face hidden into Lindsay's neck. Michael's right arm was across Meg's upper back, his hand intertwined with Lindsay's there, where hers had wound up when she drifted off while combing lightly at her friend's hair. The girls' free hands were hanging limply off the front of the couch, fingers laced together.

All in all, they'd wound up quite the tangled mess in the hours they'd been dozing. While a certain amount of confusion was definitely rolling around in Gavin's brain, it was overshadowed by the feeling of contentment that washed over him at the sight of it all.

"You want to just stay on the spare?" he asked once he felt like breaking the near-silence.

"Maybe," Michael answered. "I mean, probably. I can't see either of us driving home this late. But I don't really want to wake them up, either."

Gavin nodded slowly, looking back down at Meg again.

"If you need up, I'll move," Michael offered. "I mean I'm gonna have to take a piss sooner or later, so if you've lost feeling anywhere, now's a good time to say so."

He took a deep breath, considering the offer, and squeezed Meg's hand gently. "Nah. Think I'm alright."

"'Kay."

They both turned their attention back to the movie, whispering a few more jokes about it over the next few minutes, but between the time and the warmth piled atop him, Gavin could already feel himself falling back asleep and they settled back into silence.

Several minutes later, Michael mumbled something through a yawn that might have been, "I think I could get used to this," or might have just been Gavin's imagination.

Either way, the last thing he remembered before drifting back off was smiling and chuckling to himself before whispering a simple, "Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Kayasaurus for helping me iron this out. You were a huge help and I feel so much better knowing my errors got caught before it went online.  
> Also I don't know why I keep being so mean to Gavin. I wish I did. I feel like he winds up the butt of a lot of stuff in this and I'm sorry about that, I promise it doesn't stay that way forever.  
> Next chapter is already about half done so hopefully I'll see you all again Monday!


	4. Shared Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personal space? What's that?

"Shit. Shit. Babe. I'm sorry."

Lindsay stared at her phone, bewildered. When she'd seen Michael calling so close to their return home, she'd figured he was drunk and begging for some tacos or red bull. Instead, her husband sounded not only drunk but genuinely panicked, and she felt her heart leap into her throat. "Baby. What's wrong? Calm down, tell me what's going on."

"I fucked up," he told her, gasping loudly for air in a way that made her worry he was about to throw up. "I- shit. I fucked up babe."

She covered the microphone for a second and mouthed to Meg to keep driving. "What? What's going on?" she demanded.

"You gotta hurry home. I- fuck. I lost Gavin."

 

* * *

 

 

It'd been a while since they'd managed to organize a girls' night. They would manage to get Barb along for bubble tea after work, or squeeze a long lunch in and bring Arryn with them, but Lindsay and Meg hadn't gotten a chance to really hang out with their friends for a while. It was always either just them, or them and their boys, and while that was fun, there was something to be said for being able to wander around the mall for an hour without having to go back every five minutes and drag Gavin from wherever his attention had left him.

Meg had dropped Gavin off and picked Lindsay up in his place, leaving the boys to some new DLC and a well stocked fridge. They knew that would keep them busy and out of trouble for a few hours, giving them plenty of time to meet the others, get in some shopping ("Some place besides walmart for a change", Lindsay kept repeating), grab dinner, and maybe see a movie. It was the kind of day they'd taken for granted until the chaos of movie filming had set in six months prior, though hopefully things could get back to normal now.

 

The afternoon passed quickly, a round of fro-yo and a lap around the mall leaving them in high spirits. Caiti left before dinner, leaving the other five girls to debate who was driving and Lindsay to lament not bringing the van. A few minutes on Fandango and a game of rock-paper-scissors later, Barb was lounging across Meg's backseat, poking Ashley with her foot, and they were off to meet Lindsay and Kara at the restaurant.

They got stuck waiting for a table, and with only a few seats remaining in the waiting area, they fell into a minute-long round of "No, you"s until Barb took orders and disappeared to buy a round from the bar. Lindsay finally just sat down, dragging Ashley into the other seat since she was closest.

"Works for me," Meg shrugged, promptly spinning around and sitting on Lindsay's lap. The younger girl burst out laughing, resting her face into the back of Meg's shoulder until she calmed back down.

The four struck up conversation, Lindsay and Kara gratefully taking their drinks from Barb when she returned. Lindsay had to lean around Meg awkwardly to sip out of her straw, leading to a lot of eye rolls from Meg before she just said, "Give me that!" and plucked the fruity cocktail out of her hand. After stealing a sip for herself she held the drink up at her own shoulder level, allowing Lindsay to rest her chin on her shoulder and reach the straw that way.

"Thank you," she said, giggling and giving Meg an affectionate squeeze around the middle.

"Welcome," Meg answered. "Won't say I didn't have an ulterior motive though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, smirking proudly, "half this drink is now mine."

"Ohhhhh you bitch," Lindsay scolded, doing her best to look truly angry as Meg stole another sip. "You'll pay for your treason."

"You and what army?" Meg asked, holding the drink back towards Lindsay, only to pull the straw just out of reach right as she went for a sip.

"This army!" Barb announced, plopping onto Meg's lap with a victorious cackle, knocking the wind out of the other two from the impact. "You're trapped now!"

Meg just shrieked with laughter, trying her best to keep their glass safely above the chaos. "Cursesssss!"

Ashley and Kara exchanged an eye roll, trying to tune out the inevitable stares of the restaurant's other guests that their more theatrical friends always seemed oblivious to. Then Kara got poked in the arm by a phone, which Barb was trying desperately to hand to her without leaning far enough forward to let either of the others escape. "Quickly!" she shouted, grin wide. "The wall won't hold much longer!"

It was going to be a good night.

 

* * *

 

Michael had had the controller for too much of the last hour, which meant Gavin had had too much time to drink and too much time to think.

He couldn't shake the previous weekend from his mind. Well, he couldn't shake the last two months' worth of weekends, but the rest of them were far enough in the past that his memory was spotty, even without alcohol's interference. But that morning was still engraved clearly.

Waking up in the corner of the couch to Michael still snoring on his chest had been confusing at worst, but the thing that bothered him the most was that it hadn't bothered him at all. They already sat on each other jokingly in the office, he already made Michael carry him sometimes, and as everyone loved to point out, he already was quick to put his limbs all over him for no good reason. In the face of all that, sleeping in a pile up seemed like the least of their crimes, and dead weight aside, he made a decent blanket.

Lindsay and Meg were already awake, and he could hear them talking in the kitchen. Their voices were quiet in an attempt not to wake the boys, as was the distinct low clatter of them stirring something that would soon be breakfast, though the occasional squeak of a laugh cut through the air and Gavin suspected that was what had woken him. He laid there for a couple minutes, wondering if he should wake Michael up or try to work himself loose without disturbing him. He spent the time enjoying the odd peace of the morning and listening carefully to see if he could make out the girls' conversation over his friend's snoring.

Then, behind a giggle, he'd heard it. The distinctive sound of a quick kiss. His heart skipped a beat and he held his breath to listen more carefully, sure he'd misheard it or there was a logical explanation. Then the girls were suddenly silent. When he heard the noise again, it was followed by a few breathy laughs that were even quieter than their talking had been.

By the time he'd finished arguing with himself over whether or not he should see what was going on, he heard cupboards thunk shut. Still, he decided to try sitting up, preferably without waking Michael, to see what they were doing. He grabbed the back of the couch and pulled himself up, twisting until he could see past the breakfast bar into the kitchen.

Meg was giggling again, her lips twisted into a pout as she stared down Lindsay. The taller girl had her back mostly to him and was using her height to her advantage, holding something above her head and out of her friend's reach. Meg shook her head and then jumped up to try and grab them from Lindsay, who only stretched her arm higher.

"I'm not putting any chocolate chips in yours if you don't give them back," Meg hissed just loud enough for him to hear her.

Lindsay shrugged. "Well I guess none of us are getting any, then."

"Linds. Come onnnnn."

"Nope."

Meg made another leap, this time grabbing Lindsay's shoulder to use as leverage, then pouted again after she still missed.

"If you want them, it'll cost you," Lindsay told her, waving the bag of chocolate right in Meg's face, then raising it again before she had a chance to snatch it.

Their conversation had gotten louder, even if they were still clearly trying to talk at a courteous level. Gavin glanced down at Michael, who'd slid most the way to his lap during his attempts to sit upright, just to make sure he was still asleep, then turned back to the kitchen.

Meg sighed theatrically, putting her hands on her hips. "Fiiiiine. What's your price?"

Her smirk said she already knew what the answer was likely to be, and from the way Lindsay chuckled, her face matched.

"That'll be one kiss."

Meg took a step forward. Gavin gulped, his eyes growing wide.

"Oh fuck, my neck."

Michael's sudden complaining was accompanied by an exaggerated stretch that nearly hit Gavin in the nose. Gavin let out a startled yelp, ducking past the arm on its way back down. "Michael! Watch it!"

"What?" he groaned, blinking a few times before their eyes connected, albeit upside down. "Whoa. Sorry about that, boi," he said, pulling his arm down from where his fist was on the back of the couch, just a few inches away from Gavin's face.

By the time Gavin looked back to the kitchen, Lindsay was hugging the bag of chocolate chips to her chest, both girls frozen in place with deer-in-headlight eyes.

"Morning," Michael said, sitting up completely and clapping Gavin on the shoulder a couple times. "Fuck. What time is it?"

Gavin didn't answer, instead still trying to remember how to breathe. Michael yawned, fishing his phone out of his pocket to find out on his own, running his other hand through his hair to push it off his face. "Eh, that's not so bad," he shrugged, replacing his phone and pushing himself up off the couch. He stood there for a moment, rolling his shoulders and neck to work out the kinks from his awkward sleeping position, then sighed heavily. "Goddamn, I gotta piss," he announced, striding toward the bathroom.

As soon as he was alone, the Brit practically melted back onto the couch, deflating as the adrenaline drained from his body, and just stared at the ceiling, tugging at his hair and trying to think.

They'd been about to kiss. Probably already had been kissing. Not as part of their "game" from the prior month, not as anything sexual or intentionally provocative, and from the looks of it, not only without an audience but while deliberately trying to avoid having one. His head was swimming. He didn't feel quite surprised, especially not after the way they'd all piled together the night before, but he still felt stunned. He wanted to be angry, felt like he should be, because that was cheating, wasn't it? But he'd allowed it, even encouraged it, in other circumstances before now, so why did he mind now? Why was he surprised now?

And now it was a week and a few hours later, and he was lying in the same position on Michael's couch, a few beers drunker than he probably should have been, still wondering the same thing. A few other questions had surfaced in the mean time, as well. Was that the only time it had happened or was this a regular occurrence? How long had it been going on? Did they know he'd seen? Should he talk to them about it?

_Should he tell Michael?_

Michael started cursing suddenly, slamming the controller down on his lap and shouting, "OH COME ON! I TOTALLY MADE IT! THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Gavin craned his head back to see what had happened but was met only with the Assassin's Creed loading screen. Michael let out a frustrated sigh and then slumped backwards, face stuck in a sneer as he hit the continue button.

Just turning his head towards the TV and back made Gavin's head swim from inebriation.

"You want a turn, boi?" Michael asked him, holding the controller in his direction.

Gavin had to blink to get his eyes to focus, and shook his head once they did. "Nah. 'S'alright. I'm too far done for games, boi."

"Fair 'nough," Michael shrugged and turned his attention back to the screen.

"Actually I think I'm going to go round myself up another," Gavin added shortly, pulling himself upright with some difficulty.

"You sure?" Michael sounded surprised. Gavin had been wobbly when he sat down before, and Michael thought he'd already fallen asleep until he'd reacted to his shouting.

"Yeah. Just one more won't hurt."

Michael snorted. "It'll hurt in the morning."

"Oi, shut your gob," he grumbled back.

Gavin stood up, taking a moment to find his balance and plot out the route to the kitchen in his head. He bounced in place for a moment, staring at the doorway across from him, and blew out a long breath, suddenly intimidated by the prospect of the journey.

"'m I getting you one too, boi?" he offered, clearly stalling.

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "You sure carrying two won't be too much for you?"

"Oh, sod off."

He finally started walking, miraculously managing to get to the fridge and back without incident. He set one beer down on the coffee table, a little too heavily for comfort as they both cringed from the noise, then plopped down on the next cushion over from Michael.

"Get any further?" he asked, wrapping his shirt over his bottle's cap and twisting the lid off.

"Not much," Michael sighed back.

Gavin took a big swallow of his beer, watching as Michael died yet again. "'S'that hard?"

"Problem is, I can't tell if this game's hard or just glitchy as hell." He grumbled and rubbed his face in frustration, letting the controller fall on his lap. "It's starting to actually piss me off."

Gavin grunted sympathetically, drumming his fingers on his beer and staring intently at the screen.

Without warning, Michael grabbed the bottle from his hand, chugging a good third of it before he had a chance to object. "What- Michael! Give that back," Gavin sputtered in alarm. "You've got your own!"

"Eh," Michael shrugged, wiping his mouth before handing the bottle back, "you don't need the whole thing."

Gavin made a noise of disdain as he snatched his beer back, making a point of glaring at Michael long after he'd rolled his eyes and picked back up his controller.

By the time Michael had given up on the game, switched back over to cable, and opened his own beer, Gavin had twisted around to be sideways on the couch, head propped on the older boy's shoulder. His nearly empty beer was on the floor somewhere at the edge of his reach, and now he was just scrolling through his Twitter feed on his phone.

The distraction had mostly worked. He'd completely blanked out his worries from before. Now his focus was on occasionally laughing at Vines and holding them up to make Michael watch them. That was, until he came across Meg's most recent post.

The Instagram photo of his girlfriend and Lindsay was innocent enough on its own. The two of them, arms wrapped around each others' necks, pressed cheek to cheek and grinning at the camera. But something about seeing them so close together, clearly disregarding any sense of personal space, just made all of Gavin's questions come flooding back.

He needed to tell Michael. Or at the least, fish to see if he already knew, and maybe talk it out with Meg first if it was clear he didn't know. Yeah. That was the right thing to do.

"'D'you see this one?" he asked Michael, holding up the phone for him again.

He had to reach up to help hold Gavin's phone steady, but he laughed once he did. "That's a good one. Hey, remind me to save it later."

"Yeah but look at it."

Michael stared for a second, wondering if he'd missed something. "What about it?"

"Just look at them."

"Okay, I'm looking?" He laughed a bit nervously, wondering what had gotten into Gavin.

"What do you see when you look at it," he urged.

"Honestly? I see that we're the two luckiest sons of bitches on earth. Those are two hot babes and they love the shit out of us for some reason."

Gavin felt confused at that answer. It was clearly a correct answer, he had no doubt about that, but it was so opposite from what he was thinking that it derailed his mind, leaving him to slowly pull his phone back and stare at the screen unsteadily. "...Yeah. Yeah, we are," he said finally, slumping further down Michael's side.

He went back to scrolling, his mind milling about and trying to add Michael's statement into his own concern and process what it all meant. Eventually he let out a heavy sigh, letting his phone drop on his stomach and his head fall all the way onto Michael's thigh, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"...So, are we done with all that stuff from before?" he asked, face blank.

"Hmm? What stuff?" Michael asked, taking another swig of his beer.

"You know. The stuff. The things."

"I'm done with the Xbox for the night, if you're asking me for a turn."

"No, no. The stuff. What we were doing."

"Dude, you are so drunk."

"Oh for Christ's sakes," Gavin snapped, sitting back up and turning to face him, his phone falling to the floor. "The stuff. The… trade nonsense. With the girls." He motioned wildly to the side of the couch most of said nonsense had gone down on, for emphasis.

"Oh,  _that_  stuff. Eh," Michael shrugged, still staring at the TV.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are we done with it?"

Michael laughed, leaning back to rest his elbows on the top of the couch. "Man, I don't know. We'll see what happens, I guess."

"What do you mean, 'you don't know'."

"I mean I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"Well, do  _you_  know?"

"Well… no, but-"

"Exactly. So I'm not gonna worry about it right now."

Gavin opened his mouth to object, but couldn't find the right words. How could Michael just not care? Sure, he usually liked to just go with the flow, but this was just too big of a thing to be that unconcerned with. He wasn't entirely sure which was weirder, the idea of them all making out again or the idea of continuing as though it had never happened and never bringing it up, but either way the thought of just leaving it out there as an unknown just pissed him off.

"Well, I don't think that makes much sense," he said after a moment of mental staggering.

Michael sighed, not even looking away from the TV. "What about it doesn't make sense?"

"Any of it, to be honest."

"Any of what, Gavin."

He sputtered, growing frustrated that they were going around in circles. "Well that you just don't care!"

"Because it's not  _important_."

"I think it bloody well is!"

By now Gavin was shouting, which finally drew Michael's attention away from the TV. He took a too-slow sip of his beer and shrugged. "I just don't see what the big deal is."

 _Kissing someone is a big deal_ , he wanted to yell.  _Letting your wife snog your boi's girlfriend while you watch is a big deal. Lindsay nearly kissing me is a big deal. Not knowing whether any of you plan on making this routine and just sort of being stuck along for the effing ride since none of you ever listen to me, that is a big fucking deal!_  But none of it sounded right to his beer-addled mind, and any attempt to translate the thoughts to speech came out as befuddled-sounding squeaks. Trying to remember his point felt like trying to swim through jello, he was so lost and so frustrated by Michael's casual deflection.

He stared down his friend, feeling more annoyed still by the smirk on his face. He wasn't even taking him seriously, instead looking like he was ready to roll his eyes again at the next words Gavin said. It was infuriating how he and the others would always lay into him for not caring about things, then refuse to take him serious when he finally did. He wanted answers, but more than that, he felt like he just wanted that dumb grin wiped off Michael's face, not only because it was ridiculing him but it was so hard to see that expression and not echo it. Instinctively he knew that if Michael was smiling about something, he probably had reason to smile too, but this was clearly an exception, and he resented how easily that look could defuse him. He licked at his lips, trying to steady his expression and remember how to form words. Finally, he snapped. "I just. I just think it's important to know!"

Michael snorted. "Who gives a shit."

"I give a shit!"

"Yeah, well-"

He didn't get any further.

Gavin grabbed him by the collar, jerking Michael towards him. He dove forward at the same time, so when their lips met it was too forceful, bordering on painful. He held Michael there just long enough to seethe momentarily, releasing him as soon as he felt any movement, before he had a chance to retaliate in any way.

Michael grabbed him by the upper arm, pushing him away but also keeping him captive. "What the  _fuck_ was that?!" he yelled, clearly livid.

"Oh I don't fucking know, maybe the same damn thing the girls do every time we're all together for more than five damn minutes."

"No they don't! It's been over a month!"

"Has it?"

"Of course it has you moron! It was before Christmas!"

Gavin chuckled, sneering. "And you're so sure about that?"

"For fuck's sake! I think I would have remembered it going down again."

"Yeah, if you'd been awake for it."

That caught Michael by surprise, his volume dropping suddenly, "-what?"

Gavin's sneer turned into a prideful smirk.

"What do you mean?" Michael demanded. "What did you see?"

"I-"

His grip on Gavin's arm tightened, voice rising again in a panic. "How fucking long were you going to wait to tell me?!"

"I didn't bloody see anything!" Gavin shouted back, having to go as loud as he could to be heard over Michael's boiling rage.

"Then what the fuck was that supposed to mean!"

"I heard them!"

"Heard them  _what_."

"In the kitchen!"

"Heard them  _doing what, boi_ ," Michael repeated, his tone warning, his grip growing painful.

Gavin winced at the fingers sinking into his arm. He could tell Michael sounded more scared than truly angry, but between the yelling, the pain, the alcohol, and not having thought far enough to consider how he might react to either the information or the sudden kiss - it really had seemed like the best way to shut him up - his head was spinning and it was getting harder and harder to remember what had happened and how to word it. He could feel his words slurring before he even tried to speak.

"I," he began again, voice suddenly raspy, so he cleared his throat. "I heard them talking. Lindsay said-  _ow!_  - Lindsay, she said, that if Meg wanted her to get something down for her, it was going to cost her a kiss."

"And?!"

"And- And it looked like she was going to do it!"

Michael stared at him for a long moment, scowling and incredulous, causing the blood to drain from Gavin's face and him to wish he could snap his fingers and vanish.

Then, unexpectedly, he let go of his arm - threw him aside, really - and gave a dismissive snort. "Jesus christ,  _that's_  what you're so goddamned worked up about?!"

Now he was even more lost, so all he could do was blink at Michael, rubbing the sore spot on his bicep, and ask, "Huh?"

"You're freaking out over some cutesy bullshit. That's just how chicks are, man. They do shit like that when they're close." Michael shook his head in disbelief, laughing under his breath. "Hell,  _we_  basically do shit like that," he added, motioning between Gavin and himself.

"What? No we don't."

"Oh for fuck's sakes. How many times have you said you've blown me."

"But-"

"And don't just say it was because you were on camera."

"But it was! And they weren't!"

Michael just raised an eyebrow at him.

Gavin gave an exhausted sigh. "Look, I wouldn't have thought anything of it if they weren't so keen on snogging each other every chance we get. Regardless!" he shouted the word, seeing that Michael was opening his mouth to object again, "of whether they get us to do it after or not!"

"Are you serious? They're just doing that to egg us on."

"Are you really that dense?"

"No, I just  _fucking trust my wife_."

Alarm crossed Gavin's face as he finally realized he might have pushed the subject too far. Yes, he was accusing the girls of cheating, but maybe he was overreacting, after all.

Unfortunately, he'd already opened Pandora's box, and now was enduring the full face of Michael's drunken, wrathful ranting.

"I don't  _fucking care_  if they like kissing each other. I don't mind in the least. Honestly? If this is how they felt about us? Well no fucking wonder they tricked us into making out! It was fucking glorious. Maybe it should bother me that Lindsay had fun kissing someone else. But you know what I have to say to Meg liking kissing her? Damn right you better! Because she is the fucking best. The.  _Best_."

He paused to catch his breath and gather his thoughts, his face still showing an odd mix of anger and pride. Gavin made no move to argue, instead staying frozen, waiting for the storm to pass.

"I mean, fuck," Michael began again, an unsettling chuckle woven into his words, "I guess I should care, right? I guess I should have been weird about this whole thing from the start, right? I mean I was mad as hell when I first caught them, right? So it's fucking weird that I'm so chill with it. That's what you're thinking, isn't it?"

Gavin just stared.

"Isn't it," he repeated, daring Gavin to answer.

"I- I don't know, alright?!"

"If it bothers you, then go fucking say something to them!" Michael shouted, now on the edge of the couch like he was going to stand up any second.

"I said I don't know! I mean-" he gulped, suddenly dizzy, and started to scoot back, looking anywhere but at Michael. "I mean it's cheating, now isn't it?" His voice cracked so badly that he barely finished the sentence.

"Not- Not the way we've been fucking doing things, alright?!"

Part of Gavin wanted to demand what that was supposed to mean, but the rest was just concentrating on strangling the nausea that was starting to set in.

Michael's voice had gone low again, just angry instead of shouting. "So if it bugs you so goddamn much, you can fucking be the one to say something to them, not me. I won't fucking stop you. But I fucking trust them." He took a deep breath, the snarl starting again as a new round of anger came over him, "I trust her! So if you  _ever._  Fucking. Say that again."

"Michael I was just-" he gagged, clutching at his chest and willing himself to cool down. "I was just worried, alright?!"

"Just shut up."

"I'm saying I'm sorry!"

"Damn fucking right you're sorry! Fuck." He slumped back down on the couch, breathing hard and gritting his teeth. "You always have to fucking just. Ruin  _everything_ ," he complained. "Jesus christ. Tell them your own goddamn self."

"I'm- I'm not going to," Gavin assured him, covering his face with his hands.

"You better fucking not. Because- because-" Michael banged his head on the back of the couch, sighing hard. "Because," he repeated, voice trailing off. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eying the beer he'd forgotten was in his hand, then chugging the rest before muttering another, "Because…"

Gavin waited until he was certain his stomach had calmed for the time being before finally asking, voice hushed, "Because why?"

For two long minutes, Michael didn't answer. Then, just as Gavin was wondering whether he should ask again or just roll over and feign sleep, he finally responded.

"Forget it. You don't give a shit."

"Why?"

"Forget it."

"Michael…"

"You're drunk, boi. Shut up."

"But-"

"You're fucking drunk, Gavin. Just shut up."

Gavin sighed in frustration; it was his turn for anger to tint his voice. "Michael."

"I SAID. SHUT. UP."

Michael slammed the bottle down on the table, his shout so loud that an echo rang in the corners of the room for a moment, making the TV feel silent by comparison.

Michael crumpled right after, seemingly startled by his own outburst, his elbows on his knees and head bowed. "Just. Just shut up. Go home," he told Gavin, pulling at his hair and taking deep breaths. "Just get out."

Gavin hesitated, wobbling uneasily in his seat, before whispering, "Michael… you alright boi?"

Michael was on his feet in a flash, screaming once more for him to shut up, then storming out of the room, slamming his arm on the doorway as he went.

Gavin sunk into the corner of the couch, paralyzed from Michael's outburst, his eyes wide but not really focusing. "Well," he mumbled to himself, "alright then."

Down the hall, Michael flopped lifelessly face first across the bed, fuming silently. His head was swimming - even without the help of all the beer, he was sure he'd still be too overwhelmed by the situation. It was stupid, all of it, and Gavin was far more stupid still for making such a big deal out of any of it. He was an idiot, and he was drunk, and they were  _both_  drunk, and everything was nowhere near as complicated as Gavin's easily boggled mind was making it out to be.

Right?

He sighed into the blankets.

Faintly, he heard a door opening and shutting somewhere in the house. He braced himself, expecting to hear the inevitable sounds of Gavin puking, even through the wall.

A minute passed, and there was nothing. Another, and he still hadn't even heard the toilet flush.

Michael bolted upright, remembering what he'd shouted. "...Fuck. He didn't."

He scrambled out of his room, checking the bathroom - the door was open, the room empty. Refusing to believe that, even drunk, Gavin had been that stupid, he checked the front closet. "Gavin," he called across the apartment, panic slowly setting in since he knew there wasn't anywhere else for him to hide. "Gavin, where'd you go buddy?"

He arrived at the front door and found it unlocked.

"Shit. Shit, he did." He pulled his phone out of his pocket in a hurry, pulling Gavin up from his contacts and dialing him.

Behind him, Gavin's familiar, obnoxious ringtone started.

"...No."

He turned around, eyes searching the living room, then swore and elbowed the wall as he found what he was afraid of finding. Gavin's phone was laying on the floor, lit up from the incoming call.

"You. Fucing. IDIOT!" Michael yelled, hanging up his phone and kicking the floorboard. "GAVIN!" he shouted again, no longer caring if he disturbed the neighbors. He knew there'd be no response, but he didn't know what else to do. He rushed over and picked up the other phone from the floor, shoving it in his other pocket, then snatched his keys from the counter and started shuffling his shoes on. It had only been a couple of minutes, Gavin couldn't have gotten too far.

He ducked into the hallway, locking the door, then realizing he wasn't sure if Gavin had his copy of the keys on him and unlocking it again, just in case. Breathlessly he rushed down the hall and out the front door of the building, eyes searching the parking lot and the pool enclosure across it. He bounced in place, wondering which way he would have gone. He'd told Gavin to go home, but his house was miles away, and even sober Michael doubted he'd know the way on foot.

Still, he took off running in what he hoped was the right direction, chanting under his breath, "Please don't have gone far, please don't have gone far, c'mon buddy, just be around the corner."

Three blocks later, he had to stop to catch his breath, his stomach complaining about the combination of alcohol and exercise, making his sides ache. "Fuck," he grumbled, panting hard and looking around. "Where the hell is he."

It was past 11, and while there was still traffic that late on a Saturday in their part of town, there was nowhere close by open this late. Without his phone there was no way Gavin could have found his way much further, or gotten a taxi, or even called Meg, and if he'd found some other way to call her, Michael was sure he'd be getting an earful already.

"GAVIN! GAVIN, WHERE ARE YOU?!" he shouted desperately into the intersection.

"Fuck," he repeated, stumbling over to the nearby bus stop and slumping onto the bench.

An earful was his only real option, at this point. He had no idea where Gavin was and was way too drunk to try driving the van to search for him. He was sure the girls would be on their way home by now anyway.

He pulled back out his phone, swallowed his pride, and dialed Lindsay.

"Hey sweetie, what's up?" she asked when she picked up, voice bright and giggly.

Knowing he was about to ruin that only made him feel worse.

"Shit. Shit," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Babe. I'm sorry."

  
  
  
  



	5. Please Collect Your Lost Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will someone just tell me what the hell is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Kayasaurus, who's been doing a wonderful job of beta-ing this for me!  
> And no thanks to S-dizzle, who needs to keep his mouth shut so that this fic stops getting new bullet points added to the outline >_>

"What the hell did you do."

It was an accusation, not a question. Lindsay's voice was flat and outraged, her grip on her phone tight enough she could hear the shell creaking under her fingers.

"Look," Michael snapped from the other end of the line, "you can ream me later, right now we gotta find Gavin."

"How did you lose him?"

Meg slammed the brakes too hard and too far before the stop sign ahead, half-yelling, "He _whaaaaat_?!"

"Just get us home," Lindsay told her urgently, then made Michael repeat what Meg's shouting had obscured.

"I said I don't know! He just... walked out the door!"

"When."

"Like, fifteen minutes ago."

"And you didn't go after him?"

"I didn't know he was serious!"

Meg cast Lindsay another panicked look as she got to a red light, whispering, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Hang on," Lindsay said to her with a hand over the receiver, then into it sternly, " _Michael Vincent Jones_."

"And I _did_ go after him!"

"But what did you do?!" she demanded.

"I fucking yelled at him, ok?" he shouted back.

"About what?!"

"It... it's a long story. You can yell at me later, I promise."

Lindsay sighed, banging her head back against the headrest and gritting her teeth. "Where are you? Are you back home?

"No. I'm at the bus stop across from the CVS."

"Where have you looked?"

"Just the pool and along the street."

"Have you checked the 7-11?"

"No."

"Turn left," she told Meg, pointing to the next light.

"Meet us there," she ordered Michael, "it's on our way. You've got three minutes."

"Mind telling me what's going on?!" Meg asked once she'd hung up, sounding more alarmed than angry.

"Yeah. We're apparently involved with toddlers."

 

* * *

 

"Did you hurt my Gavino?!" Meg demanded as Michael climbed into the back seat.

"No!" he shot back, disgusted at the mere prospect. "...But I definitely went overboard yelling at him," he mumbled, burying his face in the seat.

"What the hell about?"

"It was stupid, ok?" His yell was muffled by the upholstery, so he groaned and rolled onto his side before adding, "I told him to get the fuck out. Unfortunately, he was drunk enough that he fucking took me seriously."

The girls let out matching exasperated sighs, Lindsay letting her head knock against the passenger window as she growled under her breath.

"Let's just fucking get back to the apartment. We'll dump my fuckup there in case your fuckup comes crawling back, then I'll grab my car and we can split up."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Meg agreed, backing out of the lot.

Michael groaned from the back seat as the car lurched forward, jostling his aching head, and hid his face again.

As they were pulling into the apartment's parking lot, Lindsay thought to ask, "Hey, did you even bother trying to call him to find out where he was?"

"Of course I did!" Michael snapped, then winced as they went over a speed bump. "That was the first fucking thing I did. But of course that moron forgot his fucking phone, too."

"Greaaaaat," Meg sighed.

"Should we just file a missing persons report now, or sit back and wait till he gets deported?" Lindsay asked, less sarcastically than she probably should have.

Meg whined and rocked in her seat, pressing the unlock switch on her door repeatedly. "Can we please just go look for him? Both of you, out!"

"Hey," Lindsay scowled, pushing her door open, "don't get snippy with me, I'm not the one who fucked this up."

" _Go_."

 

* * *

 

Thirty fruitless minutes of feeling utterly useless later, Michael was sprawled on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling and struggling to stay awake. Every little noise jolted him back upright in hopes it was the door opening or his phone ringing. Mostly, he'd just received a lot of texts from both girls, updating him and each other on where they'd checked. He felt like he should be making some kind of map of their progress, but was too drunk and too tired to figure out the how part.

Shortly after Meg had texted saying she was going to go check their house in case Gavin had taken a bus or cab home, Michael heard another beep, but when he checked his phone there was no new message. It took him a moment to register that it must have been Gavin's phone going off, and with some difficulty, he sat up far enough to drag it off the coffee table, then unlocked it and checked Gavin's alerts.

Other than his own missed call and a predictably disgusting number of unread emails, the only notifications were his mentions on Twitter.

"Fuck it," Michael muttered to himself, opening the app to scroll through them. It was something to do to keep himself awake, and he felt sure Gavin would have just ignored them anyway.

He froze in disbelief at the most recent mention, swearing out loud. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That son of a bitch."

Too addled to bother switching back to his own phone, he sent both girls a text that simply said, "Found him", with a screenshot of that tweet attached.

Alongside a selfie of two very excited something-teen girls and one glaze-eyed Gavin Free were the words, "Can't believe our luck! We ran into @gavinfree at Jack in the Box!" and a series of fangirly hashtags.

Lindsay shot back a "just drove past there, I'll go look", then a moment later, "idiot sighted".

Michael sighed in relief, rolled over, and was instantly asleep, face wedged against the couch.

 

* * *

 

"Siri, call Meg," Lindsay said to her blue-tooth as she rolled into a parking space and killed her motor. Meg hadn't answered her text yet, and Lindsay wanted to check to see if she should be the one to grab him, or if she should wait for backup.

"Linds?!"

"Found him."

"Yeah, I just read the text."

"Shall I approach the subject?"

"Please," Meg answered, leaving Lindsay to wince at the distressed strain in her voice. While Lindsay was starting to find the situation borderline hilarious, now that she was watching Gavin shake his legs anxiously on the curb outside a burger joint, Meg had clearly reached a point of being near tears. She made a mental note to hug the shit out of her when they got back.

"Alright. I'll meet you at home, ok?"

She got out of the car and strode over to where Gavin was sitting, stood behind him, and clicked her tongue.

She got out of the car and walked to where Gavin was sitting, standing behind him with her hands in her pockets. When he didn't seem to notice her right away, she clicked her tongue loudly, hoping to catch his attention.

"Hey," he sighed, not even looking back at her. "Are you here too yell at me too?"

"Should I be?"

Gavin shrugged, slouching further. "I don't know. Depends on what Michael told you."

"He didn't tell me shit," she told him, making sure not to hide any of the annoyance in her voice.

"Oh."

Lindsay sighed when he didn't answer further, stepping off the curb to sit down next to him. "You wanna help me yell at him when we get back?" she offered, slinging an arm over his shoulders.

He hesitated.

"...We're going back?"

She half-shrugged. "'fraid so, sweetie."

"Oh."

He went silent again, and Lindsay gave another big sigh, reaching up to ruffle her drunk friend's hair comfortingly.

"Maybe."

She blinked in confusion, straightening up slightly. "Maybe what?"

"Maybe I'll help you yell," Gavin said, letting his head rest onto her shoulder. "I'm right miffed at him."

She gave a chuckle, and heard him manage a small one in return. Once she was sure he still was in no hurry to stand up, she rested her head atop his and asked quietly, "You wanna tell me what happened?"

He whined loudly. "Do I _have_ to?"

Another half-shrug. "One of you does."

Gavin only grumbled.

"Don't worry," Lindsay said after another long stretch of quiet, "I'll make him tell me." She gave his hair another quick tussle, then let go of him, pushing herself to her feet. "So why were you sitting outside?" she asked, offering a hand to help him up.

He grimaced, staring at her feet. "Because they're drive through only after 10," he admitted.

Lindsay couldn't help but burst out laughing at that, rubbing the bridge of her nose and shaking her head affectionately. "Sometimes I understand why Meg puts up with you," she chuckled, offering her hand once again.

He took it and let her yank him to his feet, but not before blinking up at her, looking terribly dazed. "What?"

"C'mon, you idiot. Let's get home."

He whimpered, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking forlornly towards the drive through line.

"...Fine, I'll buy you a milkshake first. But I'm making Michael pay me back."

"Ohhhh thank you!" he cheered, pulling her into a tight hug.

She just rolled her eyes again.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay made sure to walk in ahead of Gavin, surveying the room as the drunken Brit stumbled in behind her. Michael was sitting on the couch, looking quite woozy and like he was struggling to stay awake. Meg was perched closer to the door, leaning against the wall to the kitchen and twisting a hair tie around her fingers nervously.

They both looked up as the door closed; Meg instantly, Michael not until she'd already made it halfway across the room.

"Gavino!" she shouted, throwing her arms around his neck. "God, you had me so worried," she sobbed, practically hanging off him. He looked startled as he slowly reached up to hug her back, leaning into the wall to hold his balance.

Michael was still resting his face on one palm, but his uncovered eye met Lindsay, who grimaced and started mouthing a count down.

_Three... two..._

"You know how fucking worried you had me?!" Meg screeched, still attached to her boyfriend.

"Sorry?" he offered unsteadily.

"We had no idea where you were! We'd still be looking for you if you weren't a fucking ham."

"I would have made it home eventually..."

"Yeah? You would have?" She let go of him finally, backing up enough to cross her arms as she glared at him. " _How_. You didn't even have your phone."

"Well, it's not that hard to borrow someone else's and call for a cab, now is it?" he pointed out. He wobbled a bit, leaning against the wall and surveying the room for some place to sit down. "'sides, Michael's the one who told me to go home."

Michael's hand fell from his face, slapping his knee angrily. "Oh fuck you. I tell you a lot of shit when you piss me off. Do you go fuck yourself every time I tell you to do that, too?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly!"

Gavin stared him down - rather ineffectively since he was having trouble standing, even with the wall's help - and shouted back, "But normally you stop yelling at me when I stop being stupid!"

"You're always stupid."

"And you're always yelling! Because it's funny. Because I'm having fun." Gavin's voice cracked and he covered his mouth to hide a gagging noise. "Because _we're_ having fun!"

Michael cast him an angry glare, then looked at the opposite wall, as far away from him as possible.

"You're not usually _actually angry_ at me."

Michael snorted, still not looking at him. "Yeah well, you're not usually actually a fucking pile of shit."

"Micoo…"

Lindsay coughed, interrupting before they could start arguing again. "So uh, which of you two dipshits is going to tell us what the fuck happened."

"We had a fight," Michael snapped.

"No shit."

"That's it, ok? He was more of an asshole than normal, he pissed me off, I told him to shut up, he wouldn't, I told him to leave, he took me seriously."

"Yeah but what the hell got you that upset?"

Michael finally tore his eyes away from the wall, staring instead at his wife with a carefully leveled gaze. She met it, but found it enormously difficult to hold - instead of looking furious like she expected him to, his lips were folded inward and pressed firmly, his brow knitted in a way that made it hurt to look at him.

Meg got tired of waiting for the interrogation to continue and stepped in herself. "You promised you'd tell us what happened after we found Gavin," she reminded him.

Lindsay saw Michael swallow hard before he broke eye contact, his posture drooping when he looked back at Meg. "I already told you," he said, voice low and warning.

Meg huffed and turned to Gavin, who'd finally made it far enough to sit on the arm of the couch, visibly trying to catch his breath. "Okay, fine," she said, nodding toward Gavin, "you tell us then. What bullshit did you two make us scramble all over town for?"

Gavin glanced between her and Michael, stammering momentarily before he started gagging again. "I'm sorry," he managed, bolting upright and pushing past her to rush around the corner to the bathroom. He didn't quite get the door shut before he escalated to retching.

Lindsay grimaced at the sound, looking between the others again. Meg was flexing her hands in frustration, clearly torn between wanting to chew him out further, still trying not to cry in relief that he was ok, and wanting to go check up on her inebriated boyfriend. Michael had slumped forward again, his elbows on his knees and his hands supporting his head so low he was nearly folded in half. She gave them both a moment to speak before throwing her hands up in frustration, growling to herself and stomping into the hall to pull the door shut herself.

"Let's just drop it for tonight," she announced as she came back in. She tried glaring in Michael's direction, but he was still collapsed, so she turned to Meg instead. "Once he's through wasting the fucking milkshake I got him, you two go home."

Meg rolled her eyes and nodded. "Toddlers," she muttered as she grabbed her purse and keys from the counter.

"And you," Lindsay continued, gritting her teeth again when Michael still didn't even look up, "congratulations. You just won yourself your first ever night on the couch."

"Sure, cool," he grumbled, voice muffled by his hands. "Whatever. Sounds fucking peachy."

"You've got thirty seconds to shut the fuck up and get yourself a pillow before my benevolence runs out," she snapped back.

He groaned, running his hands back through his hair and sighing heavily before trying to stand. He cast her the same look from before, with an extra layer of exhaustion tinting it now, then trudged over to Meg, shoving Gavin's phone into her hands before trailing back toward the bedroom, giving Lindsay a wide berth as he did.

By the time he walked back past, pajama pants slung over one shoulder and his pillow tucked under it, Gavin had quieted down in the bathroom and they could hear the sink running instead. Michael paused in the doorway as Meg pushed past them to go check on Gavin, watching the door shut before looking back up to Lindsay as though asking for permission to speak.

She swallowed hard, shaking her head and breaking eye contact with him almost instantly, blinking to keep away the frustrated tears threatening to form there.

"G'night," he sighed almost apologetically, turning back toward the couch.

Lindsay echoed his sigh, biting her lip as she reached for his hand, barely catching his pinky with hers. "Just get some sleep," she mumbled.

He nodded once, squeezing her finger for a second before letting her hand fall away again. "Planning on it," he assured her, chucking the pillow into the corner of the couch and then stumbling over to collapse onto it.


	6. Photographic Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But who's admitting to what here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks to Kayasaurus for the help beta-ing! This chapter had quite a few challenges so I'm really grateful!
> 
> I'm trying something new in this chapter, which is some text message convos done as pictures. If they're not showing up for some of you, or if they're annoying and you'd rather just rather have it be written, let me know please :D

It was usually hard for everyone to wake up properly on Monday mornings. Jack and Ryan were the only ones reliably conscious by the time they needed to do AHWU, the rest relying on frequent trips to the Keurig to snap out of it if they started filming by 10. But this week, Gavin seemed even worse than normal. His eyes were bloodshot and it was clear that no attempt had been made at doing his hair, and he'd admitted that if it weren't for Meg, he would have shown up to work with his shirt inside out.

(Geoff laughed and pointed out the number of days he'd let exactly that happen to him.)

Aside from that brief complaint over his second mocha, Gavin was dead silent and glued to his chair. Michael, meanwhile, had been avoiding his, spending most of the morning either on the couch or walking two inches behind Geoff. AHWU was the first time he spoke, but even that was only to read his section of the news.

Never in his life had Geoff been so frustrated over not being interrupted.

When Michael finally did sit in his chair and start setting up his system, Gavin immediately got up and left the room, muttering something about needing to pee when Ray had asked where he was headed.

"What's up with him?" he asked Michael.

"I don't know. Why would I know?"

"I thought he was at your house all weekend."

"Who said that?"

"He's at your house every weekend. If he's not at your house, you're at his, and if you're not at either place, I'm with you guys."

"Nah. You're exaggerating."

"He's really not," Geoff cut in to say. "You were a godsend to me and Griffon until Gavin finally moved out. It was the only way we got more than ten minutes to ourselves every weekend. And unlike you young'ns, I need more time than that."

"Great. Thanks for the mental image," Ray grumbled, turning back to his screen.

"You enjoy that," Geoff told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Now both of you find some work to do."

Gavin shuffled back in the room a moment later, still looking dead-eyed as he and his newest cup of mocha got back into their seat. "What's the matter?" Geoff asked him, coming over to see that he was just now turning his computer on. "You're not coming down with something, are you?"

"No. At least, I don't think so," Gavin answered, his tone short.

"Well good, you can edit something for me then," he smiled, leaning over him to shove a usb stick into his computer. "Have fun with that."

Gavin just sighed.

Lindsay poked her head out of their room part way through one of the week's one-off Let's Plays. Once she'd made sure they were all busy, she waved Kdin out of the room, the two of them intending to go on a snack run before they started the next build.

As they passed through, she paused, noticing that both her husband and Gavin were oddly silent. For a second she thought they might just be playing a different game, but a quick glance showed that everyone but Jack and Ray seemed to be playing the same game.

She didn't catch what exactly he did to get them killed, but out of nowhere Geoff was shouting at Gavin, with Ryan on accompaniment.

"Oh for fucks' sakes! We almost had it. You fucking idiot, how did you even manage that?"

"Seriously, you had one job."

"How are you even that stupid?!"

Gavin pouted over at them, swinging his chair back and forth slowly. "Sorry, I'll get it this time," he said, sounding uncharacteristically unamused.

Michael hadn't even moved; his only reaction was a heavy sigh and to sink down into his chair until he was barely in mic range.

"Michael, keep track of him," Geoff commanded, "I'm not doing this again."

"Why is he always my problem?" Michael answered flatly.

"How is that even a question?"

"I'm just saying. You're the one that hired him, not me."

"Yeah, and you're the only one he actually listens to."

The single snort of laughter Michael responded with didn't even register on the recording monitor.

Gavin didn't try to argue.

"Fucking- Alright, you know what?" Geoff snapped, all joking gone from his voice. "That's it. You two aren't allowed to play any more Mario cars. Not now, not ever," he announced, pointing at them both. "You hear that?" he added, turning his chair around so he was pointing at Lindsay instead. "None. Or at least fucking let them win. I'm not dealing with this bullshit."

Lindsay shrugged as high as she could, then finally followed Kdin out the door he'd been holding open for her, making sure to walk in front of him so he wouldn't see the rage plastered across her face.

 

* * *

 

"Can I see you two for a moment? Outside?"

Michael opened his mouth to joke at her when Lindsay leaned over the back of his seat, but one look at her face and it was clear she meant business. She was smiling, sure, but there was a strain to her eyes that told him she was narrowly resisting screaming at one or both of them, and now that they weren't recording, there was nothing to save him.

He'd managed to get away with not telling her a goddamn thing the day before. He'd had a headache in the morning, then faked one for most the day, until she finally just stopped bothering to try and ask. Michael didn't know it yet - though he could guess, from Gavin's response on Twitter to the fangirls from Saturday night being " _It was nice to meet you, I think? Was a bit yammered last night, hope I treated you both alright_ " - but Gavin had feigned flat out not remembering any of their argument. Lindsay and Meg had agreed to let it go if the boys had, but from the looks of it, they were far from it.

"Why me?" Gavin asked her, and was met with a scowl.

"You know why. Now both of you, move, or I'm dragging you out, chairs and all."

"Yes'm," Michael agreed, climbing to his feet.

Despite their cooperation, Lindsay all but dragged them down the hall, grabbing them by their sleeves repeatedly to steer them out of the building. When they got to the bathrooms the guys cast each other confused glances. Lindsay ducked into the women's room, saw there was someone in one of the stalls, and instead pushed Michael over to check the men's.

"It's empty, but what-"

"Inside," she instructed, herding them both in and then locking the door behind her. They scrambled aside, Gavin nervously putting himself near a stall since Lindsay was blocking the door, Michael just leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"If you two _ever_ ," she started, voice barely held below a scream, "fucking… embarrass me like that again."

"Embarrass you?! What the hell, you're the one who just ran into the men's bathroom with us."

Lindsay growled in frustration, leaning her head back and trying to regain her focus.

"What I mean is. Would you two _children_ just _please_ fucking _apologize to each other already_?!"

They looked at each other for a moment, both frowning. Gavin took a moment to anchor himself, standing up straight before saying, "Yeah Michael. Why don't you apologize?"

Just as Lindsay started to groan in complaint, figuring this was him not taking things seriously, Michael lunged forward and started shouting. "What the fuck?! I already apologized to you! You're the one who fucking made us hunt for you for over an hour!"

"You started it!"

"Oh, now you've done it." Michael shook his head, starting to pop his knuckles.

" _Michael_ ," Lindsay warned.

"But," Gavin said, taking a step back, "it was definitely my fault. I was way too harsh on you, boi. Sorry."

"Damn right better be, asshole," Michael snapped back at him, though his temper seemed to have melted off.

Lindsay sighed, still gritting her teeth. "Okay, so are we all good there?"

"Well I'm alright."

"I mean yeah, I guess?"

"Okay, great. That means you two can tell me what the fuck happened on Saturday."

Michael frowned, turning his attention back towards her. "Lindsay…"

"Or I can just lock you two in here until I'm sure you've learned to play nice."

"We already do play nice!"

"Are you two idiots going to tell me what the fuck happened or not."

Both of them groaned loudly, with Gavin nervously not looking at her and Michael doing his best to wordlessly appeal to her sympathy.

"Is 'not' actually an option?" Gavin asked.

"Gavin."

"I'm just checking! Jesus."

Michael sighed again, brow knitting in concentration as he weighed a few words on his tongue. Gavin continued to whine quietly, shifting from foot to foot as Lindsay stared him down, hoping to get one of them to crack.

Finally Michael let out another, heavier sigh, and crossed his arms again. "Okay, babe, I need to ask you something."

Lindsay snorted. "Oh, so now suddenly I'm the one being interrogated?"

"No! I mean, yes. Kind of. Ugh, look. I just need you to be straight with me about something, that way I know if I can punch Gavin in the face or not."

Gavin squeaked, backing away so his back was against the stall divider.

"Okay? I mean, go ahead and ask, I don't see what it has to do with any of this, but if it gets this solved sooner, by all means, be my guest."

"On Saturday, Gavin… he told me some things. That he'd seen."

Michael didn't miss the way Lindsay's eyes widened for a split second. "...Like?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Lindsay… Did you… Have you and Meg… been… y'know…" he sighed, closing his eyes. "Have you been making out with her when we're not all together?"

"W-what?" Lindsay stammered, her voice so pained it made Michael bite his lip and turn his head away. "How am I even supposed to answer that?"

"Truthfully?" Michael suggested, still wincing.

"I…"

Michael shook his head, dropping his arms and stepping forward to hold his hands out, offering to take hers. The answer was obvious already, just from her hesitance - if it had been no, she'd have responded with that instantly, but her avoidance was beyond suspect.

"Look. There's nothing you could say right now that would make me take this ring off my finger, ok?" Michael promised. She nodded slightly, reaching out to let him sandwich her hand between his. "Unless like, you say you made out with Gus," he added, giving a strained smirk. "Then I'm stopping to get my mouth sterilized on my way to the lawyer's."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that, but didn't quite meet his eyes still. Instead she looked over toward Gavin, who was doing his best to look very, very interested in the ceiling tiles. "But what about…" she said softly, nodding toward him.

"What about him? He's the one saying it happened. I think if he cared that much, we'd know already."

Lindsay nodded slowly, taking a deep breath.

"I don't care what the answer is, Linds. I just need to know which one of you is lying to me."

"I," she said, taking another deep breath and squaring her shoulders. "Yeah. Yeah, we have. Not… not often though. And I definitely wouldn't call it making out, just…" she closed her eyes, exhaling hard before drawing another wavering breath and opening them again, "just a few quick kisses. Just here and there. Mostly… mostly last week. When we were making pancakes."

Michael just nodded slowly, though goosebumps rose on his arms.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know why we did. It just… seemed natural? I don't know. I feel so dumb now. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Michael assured her quietly, squeezing her hand between his.

She gave a shaky nod, managing to smile back at him when he offered her a quick one.

Gavin let out a single laugh to their side. "I told you."

Both of them glared daggers back at him, and his smug smile faded immediately. "Fine, right, I'm not here then," he said, holding his hands in the air in surrender and leaning back against the divider again.

Michael sighed and rolled his eyes, then turned back to Lindsay with the same weak smile. He held out his arms, offering her a hug, which she took, the two of them rocking in place for a second while they both got their breathing back to normal.

"Honestly?" Michael said as he let go, taking her hand again, "I think I kind of already knew, even before Gavin told me."

"You did?" she asked, eyes going wide again.

"You did?!" Gavin demanded, sounding far more alarmed than Lindsay.

"Well… yeah. There's only so many times you can tell someone you missed them while holding their hand before it looks like something's up."

"Err…" Lindsay stuttered, then laughed in disbelief. "Fuck. Yeah, yeah you're right on that one." She gave another sigh, the weight lifting from her chest.

"Besides," he added, shrugging. "Gavin kissed me on Saturday."

Gavin's distressed sputtering from behind him nearly drowned out Lindsay's shocked "What?!".

She stared at them both for a moment, laughing under her breath as she tried to figure out if they were serious. "Is that why he bolted?!"

Michael looked back at Gavin and shrugged again. "Nah, but it's part of why I yelled at him."

Gavin scoffed. "I was just trying to shut you up!" he shot back.

"Well that sure as hell backfired," Michael laughed. "I mean, _technically_ it worked for a second, but after that, boy oh boy."

"So wait," Lindsay said incredulously, "you two…"

"I was drunk. It was just a quick one. Grabbed him by the collar," Gavin explained quickly, making a pulling motion. "I've got a nasty bruise where he shoved me off," he added, pulling up his sleeve to show it off.

"Ouch," Lindsay said sympathetically. "So… wait. Why are you guys telling me? Is this like, 'ok we're even, let's just stop'?"

"You're the one who asked what had us so mad at each other."

"Touche, but you could have easily left that part out."

Michael shrugged."Yeah, I guess. I just thought it'd be better to be honest with you. Plus… I guess it's so you know I really _don't_ mind."

"You don't?" she blinked, then, "Wait, you don't mind as in…"

"I mean that it's going to take some getting used to, if it's going to be a thing or whatever. But if you want it to be a thing then fuck, why not. I wouldn't have married you if I thought I'd lose you to the first person prettier than me to smile at you."

She smiled softly. "Sure you would have, you love calling dibs."

"That was some slow dibs calling then."

Lindsay laughed, stepping forward to hug him again.

Michael kissed her temple, squeezing her tight and letting his chin rest on her shoulder. "I know everyone thinks I'm all super possessive, but I don't want to stand in the way of something that makes you happy. And I also don't want you hiding anything from me."

She hesitated, hugging him a little closer before answering. "Yeah, sorry. I… really was going to tell you, I just was trying to figure out how to say it."

"Well, then we'll just have to figure out how to say it together."

Gavin cleared his throat behind them, startling them into letting go of each other. "Not that anyone's in the business of asking me how I feel about anything lately, but I'm fine with it too," he informed them, doing his best to look cross with them both. "If Meg is, that is."

Lindsay giggled at that, finding herself blushing a little. She hadn't taken the time yet to think about the kisses and other proximity she'd shared with Meg lately as anything but affection, but the bigger of a deal the boys made of it, the more she felt something swelling in her heart at the thought of telling Meg about their conversation. "Okay," she said to Gavin, smiling widely. "Thank you."

Michael couldn't help but smile just as wide as he watched her face, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers.

"Awww look how cute you two are," Gavin squealed, stepping forward and reaching for their cheeks. "I just want to give you both little pinches," he grinned, making matching finger motions. "Beep, beep."

"Knock it off," Michael complained, shoving his hand away.

Lindsay shrieked out a giggle as Gavin succeeded in squishing her cheek before turning back to Michael, who let go of her to fend off Gavin with both hands. After a moment of laughter over them dissolving into a shoving match, Gavin still persistently trying to grab Michael's face, she smirked and asked them, "So what about you two?"

They paused mid shove to look over at her. On the side closer to her, their hands were locked against each other's elbows, both holding each other at arm's length and preventing them from escaping any further. Michael's other hand was locked around Gavin's wrist, pushing it up as high as he could reach, and Gavin's fingers were still making pinching motions towards Michael's face.

"What _about_ us?" Michael asked her, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

She raised hers higher, smirking.

"I think she means are we gonna snog some more," Gavin offered, voice surprisingly neutral.

"Oh."

Lindsay nodded, eyebrows now waggling.

"Huh. I dunno? I hadn't really thought about it," Michael shrugged. "I mean, _should_ we be snogging more?"

Lindsay bit her lip for a second, chuckling. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't mind watching that again." Her expression changed suddenly as something else occurred to her. "...Or if I said you guys didn't owe us for having to hunt for Gavin all night."

"Okay, first of all," Michael said, pushing Gavin back slightly and letting go, then holding one finger up towards him to let him know not to keep wrestling for the moment, "it was like an hour, not all night. And second," he swatted Gavin's hand away as he reached for his cheek again anyway, which only made the Brit giggle harder, "if that's all I owe you, hell, I'll pay up right now," he assured her, reaching over to grab his friend around the waist.

Lindsay wolf-whistled appreciatively, dissolving into a round of laughter as Michael made fish faces first at her, then Gavin, whose turn it now was to push Michael away instead. The two stumbled into standing just barely more than arm distance apart, both wearing satisfied smiles.

"Nah, it wouldn't be fair to Meg if you went right now."

Michael did his best to look disappointed and Gavin muttered something to himself, pushing his hands into his pockets. Michael blinked and grimaced. "Shit, sorry boi. Guess I'm really not asking you about anything. You okay with that to settle our debt?"

Gavin snorted. "All I said was that if that's all it takes, it'll be the lightest I've ever gotten off from making Turney clean up after me."

Lindsay grinned. "Well in that case, I can come up with additional punishments if you waaaaant."

"Oh, god no," Gavin answered, looking genuinely shaken.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Fuck that. If you'd had to taste that mouth, you'd know it's plenty of punishment."

"Heyyyy," Gavin whined, "It's not my fault the bevs you've got taste like shite."

"Well then I guess you're buying this weekend, Richie Rich."

Lindsay stood back and let them bicker for a moment, covering her mouth to middle her laughter. Michael'd forgotten to take his arm from around Gavin, so they were still standing close together. Gavin took his hands from his pockets to gesture in irritation, one arm winding up around Michael's waist in the process.

When she couldn't contain her smirking anymore, Lindsay cleared her throat and interrupted them. "So are we going to get back to work, or are you two planning on paying up right now after all?"

Both boys' eyes went wide and they instantly let go of each other, their fight forgotten. Then, just as quick, Michael thought better of it and slung his arm back over Gavin's shoulders. Gavin blinked in confusion, looking between the two of them, then shuffling a little closer to Michael to put his arm back around his waist.

"First you're mad we're fighting, now you're teasing us for getting along. Make up your mind, woman," Michael said.

"Hey, I'm just asking. No need to get all defensive."

Michael narrowed his eyes at his wife, weighing whether or not he wanted to take her bait again. "Pfffft. Whatever," he said finally, patting Gavin on the shoulder as he let go and headed toward the door. "We should get back. Maybe I'll throw a Wiimote at Geoff's head."

"I'm for it," Lindsay agreed.

"Why not a whole Wii?" Gavin suggested.

"Dude. Can you even _lift_ a whole Wii?"

"I can too," Gavin answered as Michael unlocked the door and pulled it open.

They were greeted on the other side by Gus, who was about three steps from the door, and who, upon sight of them, stopped dead in his tracks.

Lindsay tried to duck behind Michael, but Gavin beat her to it, so she was left just grinning as innocently as she could manage as their co-worker stared them down.

"Oh hell no. That is not an appropriate use of company resources."

"Whoa, Gus. It's not what it looks like," Michael tried to assure him, but Gus was already pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it," Gus answered. "And so will everyone else. Say cheese, dipshits." He held his phone up, trying to line up the shot to get all three of them and the men's bathroom door in the picture.

Lindsay lunged for his phone but missed. Gus quickly turned around and started running before any of the others had a chance to try.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Michael shouted, taking off after him, jumping the ramp to try and catch up but tumbling in the process and giving him a head start.

By the time Lindsay caught up to them - Gavin had opted to just head back to the office to maximize plausible deniability - Gus had locked himself inside the phone booth and was leaning hard on the door, holding the handle still with one hand and clearly typing into his phone still with the other, laughing his ass off all the while. Michael was jerking on the handle and had only stopped shouting because he had drawn a small crowd in the process.

"C'mon, let's go," she told him, trying to pull him away.

"He's posting it to Twitter," Michael grumbled, refusing to stop pushing on the door. "I just know it!"

"Probably," Lindsay agreed.

"So I'm going to break his fucking neck."

Lindsay looked around, seeing that the only people still paying any attention were Chris and an intern she didn't recognize, and leaned in to hiss a whisper to her husband. "He's just trying to get to you. If you make a big deal out of it and then everyone sees the picture, they'll think we're actually hiding something. If you shut up, they'll take it as a joke."

He glared at her, then finally let go of the doorknob, straightening up. "Fine," he grunted. "But you better be right."

"Remember, I used to be a bully. I know how the game works," she teased, brushing off his sleeve from where he'd fallen during the chase. "C'mon, let's get back before Geoff has a fit."

"I'm sure he's had time for three."

As they walked away, they heard the door creak open behind them. Just as Gus opened his mouth to shout something after them, Lindsay turned back, narrowing her eyes and making an _I'm watching you_ hand motion at him.

He shut up and closed the door again.

 

* * *

 

 Half an hour later, when the guys were mid-recording again and Lindsay had finally started to get nervous because the picture still hadn't shown up on Twitter, she got a text from Barb.

Attached was a blurry photo of Lindsay lunging at the camera, with an unidentifiable door and an unidentifiable set of legs behind her.

Lindsay sighed in relief.


	7. Seatbelts, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Payback isn't always a bitch.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, or as uneventful as any week around the Rooster Teeth office could manage to.

Gus dropped the issue of Lindsay having been in the men's bathroom after word got out that one of the toilets in the women's room was flooding. (Contrary to Gus's accusations, Lindsay had no idea how that happened - though she had a feeling Barb did, from the glint in her eye during the announcement.)

Barb didn't even try asking what they'd been doing after the second time that Lindsay insisted that they most definitely had _totally_ been fucking in there, no duh, like, what else would they be doing?!

For once it seemed like the office gossip train actually stopped with Barb, instead of starting there. To Lindsay's surprise, Meg hadn't even seen the photo until she showed it to her herself over lunch the next day.

Meg just laughed and teased them about not inviting her.

 

* * *

 

Friday night proved to be exceptionally boring. There was nothing at the theaters they wanted to see, nothing out on blu-ray they hadn't already seen, and nothing on TV that they gave a shit about. They got through a round of Mario Party and most of a gallon's worth of riot punch before boredom set in and channel surfing left them flipping back and forth between reruns.

Somewhere around the last commercial break, Meg had wandered off to put her dishes in the kitchen and grab the pillows and blanket from the hall closet. She dropped them on the other leg of the couch, leaning over to kiss Gavin as she explained, "I don't feel like waiting till I sober up to drive home. We should definitely just stay here."

Gavin nodded and patted his lap, expecting her to sit down on or beside him to cuddle, and nearly started to whine when she walked past him to sit on Lindsay instead. Before he could complain, she'd flopped over, leaving her sprawled across all three of their laps - her head on Gavin's, her legs on Lindsay's, and Michael trapped in the middle.

Michael glanced down at her and shrugged, reaching over her to grab his glass from the coffee table and then leaning back on the couch. She grinned as she watched him, then reached up to poke Gavin in the nose before settling in at an angle she could see the TV from.

Meg wasn't content to just watch TV though, instead making a nuisance of herself from the moment she laid down. She kept pinching Gavin's leg and making him jump and squawk in alarm, until Lindsay started doing the same to her. Before long Lindsay was in a wrestling match with Meg's legs and Michael had switched his glass to the other hand to hold it away from Meg's thrashing knees.

Then Lindsay's elbow caught him in the cheek - not hard, but enough that she stopped for a second to laugh an apology - and suddenly all bets were off. Michael downed the last of his drink in one gulp and shoved the empty glass into Gavin's hands, worming one arm behind Lindsay so that he could tickle her from both sides.

Lindsay shrieked and twisted so that she was almost sideways on the couch, trying to get out of his reach while still holding Meg captive. It barely worked; instead Michael just let himself be dragged with her, until he was half laying on Lindsay, pinning her to the side of the couch with his own body and Meg's legs, which he was more than happy to help Lindsay restrain. Meg grabbed onto Gavin to use him as an anchor, her giddy laughter occasionally muffled by burying her face into her boyfriend's stomach.

Naturally he took this as his cue to drop Michael's glass on the coffee table and tickle her, instead.

Michael was knocked free of tormenting his wife when Meg thrashed so hard she nearly tumbled from their laps, held up by her now-reluctant grip on Gavin and the leg anchored between the Joneses. He cast the Brit a dirty look for distracting him and elbowed him in the ribs, but Gavin managed to tune him out, grinning instead at the girl giggling up at him who was trying to grab at his hands to restrain them.

"Stooooop!" Meg whined, still laughing and squirming. Lindsay gave another good yank to her free leg, and when their eyes met, she motioned like she was going to bite down on Meg's toes. "Noooo!" she shouted at the younger girl and tried to pout in her direction.

Lindsay cast an exaggerated pout back at her, but let go anyway, gnashing her teeth at Michael instead when he leaned like he was going to start tickling her again. "Don't you dare, mister," she scolded him, doing her best to look stern. He laughed and let her go finally, though the yelp she let out while his hand was snaking away said he got in one more pinch along the way, and the playful smack she delivered to his shoulder after said it was probably to her ass.

By the time Meg tried to sit up, her legs were tangled in some strange mix of over and under with Lindsay and Michael's, like neither of them had been able to decide who was sitting on whose lap and she'd been pulled along for the ride. She cast her legs only a cursory glance and shrug before Gavin's touch at her side made her shriek again.

"No more!" she shouted, twisting to grab him by the cheeks and drag his face toward hers. The distraction worked - he stopped tickling her immediately, his hands hanging awkwardly on either side of her instead as he was distracted by her sucking very firmly on his lower lip.

For a moment they fell oblivious of their friends beside them, letting the combination of tickle fight-inspired energy and inebriation lull them into a fit of passion that left them both gasping quietly for air.

Once Meg was sure that her distraction had worked and Gavin was quite done trying to tickle her, she let her arms slip, one still hanging around his neck and the other propping her up by way of his thigh (or maybe Michael's - the way they were all crammed together, it was hard to tell without groping around more than she wanted to).

Slowly and almost reluctantly, she slid away from Gavin's lips, panting softly. He whimpered as Meg pulled away, reaching up to hold her face in both hands to try and pull her back for another kiss. She laughed and grinned so wide it wrinkled her nose, letting him steal another few seconds of kiss before she let go again.

Meg kissed his nose with a giggle, whispering, "Pass it on."

"Pass it on?" Gavin asked her, looking quite puzzled.

"Yeah, silly," she answered, ruffling his hair. "Pass it on."

She winked.

He glanced over at Michael, who quickly turned his head away as though he'd seen nothing.

"'ey boi, apparently, I'm supposed to pass it on."

"Oh really?" Michael shrugged, feigning surprise. "Too bad I'm not ticklish. Sorry, Meg."

It was clear he was deliberately ignoring what Meg actually meant. She leaned her head into Gavin's chest, jutting her lower lip out in the biggest pout she could manage, then rolled her eyes when Michael didn't even have the courtesy to look her way.

"Oh you're not, are you?" Lindsay chuckled from behind him. She leaned forward, untangling her legs from Meg's and slipping one under Michael's instead, and let her chin rest on his shoulder.

"I'm not," he repeated.

"Well I think you're a big fat liar."

She pressed her face into the back of Michael's shoulder, hiding it there to avoid the path of his inevitable squirming, and reached up to let her fingers ghost along the right side of his neck. He choked down a yelp to silence himself, jerking once then struggling to force himself to stay still as her fingers made another painfully light pass along his hairline.

"See?" he said through gritted teeth, not breaking eye contact with Gavin for longer than it took to blink. "Not ticklish. At all."

"No you're not, you're absolutely right," Gavin agreed, smirking. "And in that case, I guess you won't mind if I do this."

He reached up to mirror Lindsay's motions on the other side of Michael's neck, grinning to himself when Michael's eyes snapped shut and a single squeak escaped his tightly closed jaw. As Michael's face contorted more and more, Gavin only laughed harder, especially once Michael lost his internal fight and started to twitch from the light touch. Meg let herself slide back down, stretching out across their laps and enjoying the entertainment from what she hoped would be outside of elbow range, though she kept the arm not around Gavin's waist curled defensively on her chest just in case.

Lindsay started to laugh before Michael, her giggling muffled by his back as she felt her husband reacting in front of her. She looked over his shoulder to grin at Gavin, her mouth hidden but eyes bright and mischievous.

It didn't take long for Michael to start scrunching his shoulders in an attempt to crowd out their hands. He tried to squirm his way down the couch to get away, but with Meg for a seatbelt he only made it a couple inches, so he settled for rocking his knee into Gavin's leg in attempt to push them both back.

"Ok fine," Michael whined, swatting Lindsay's hand away for the umpteenth time. "I'm ticklish, you win, just stop." He wasn't the type to giggle and fight back when it came to tickling; instead it just annoyed him in a hurry. Lindsay and Gavin hadn't passed that point yet, but they were getting close and he wanted them off ASAP.

Neither of them cared.

"I said _knock it off_ ," he complained, shrugging until his shoulders were almost to his ears. Instead of crowding them out, he only succeeded in pinning their fingers against his neck.

"Don't wanna," Lindsay mumbled into his back.

"Make me," Gavin countered, grinning.

Lindsay stopped at the words, looking up.

"'Make me'? Really?" Michael laughed, then went back to gritting his teeth to avoid reacting more. "What are you, five?"

Gavin shrugged and reached over to poke Michael below the ribs on his other side, distracting him long enough to get his fingers unstuck from Michael's shoulder trap. "No?"

Michael swatted at his hand, then ducked away from the other as it went back for his neck, only to find his back up against Lindsay and nowhere to run. "You're kidding me, right?" he said. He noticed Meg starting to reach toward him and he shot her a death glare, which gave Gavin another opening.

"Not in the - ack! - slightest," he assured Michael, interrupted by the older boy grabbing at his hand and pinning it against Gavin's chest.

"You really wanna start that with me? Because you know I'm like, fifty times stronger than you, so any 'make me' is just gonna end with you pinned down."

It was only by virtue of trying to get Gavin to take him seriously that Michael managed to avoid rolling his eyes at the sly giggle Lindsay reacted with.

Gavin grinned. "Ah see, you think that boi, but the way I see things, it would be three versus one."

"You really think they'd be on your side?" Michael scoffed, frowning in disappointment.

Lindsay chuckled mischievously against his back. Michael rolled his eyes and both boys glanced down at Meg, who was looking pensive. Finally she gave a half shrug from her place on Gavin's lap, casting Michael her best smirk.

Gavin grinned victoriously. "I'm willing to take my chances."

He reached for Michael's neck again, so pleased with himself that he was struggling not to laugh. This time, instead of swatting his hand away, Michael grabbed him by the wrist and pulled it forward, leaning slightly forward so that his arm was pinned between their chests.

"Are you so sure about that?" Michael warned, fighting back his own smile and trying to wrangle it into a smirk that read as merciless.

"I am. I quite like my odds."

For a moment that felt far longer than it was, Michael just stayed there, not letting Gavin's arm free, not that he seemed to be trying very hard to escape. His eyes studied his friend's expression carefully and tried to read Meg's from the brief glances at her he was willing to chance.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. The attentive way Meg was staring at him, the feeling of Lindsay pressed so close against his back, the unwavering smirk Gavin had aimed at him - it all added up to a critical mass of attention pointed at him that not even the one and only Michael Jones knew how to handle.

"I'll give you one more chance to stop," Michael warned, his voice coming out much quieter than he intended it to.

Gavin chuckled, and Michael couldn't stop himself from watching as he wet his lips before speaking again.

This was a set up. It was obvious. The girls were baiting them into kissing again, albeit they technically owed them it. Meg had reserved a front row seat, and Lindsay was goading him on. She pressed her lips to the edge of his shoulder, and Michael felt her let out a heated breath that was far too familiar to him - the same heavy, anticipation-laden sigh he'd let out when their positions were reversed a month prior.

"No," Gavin said thoughtfully, "I think you're going to have to make me."

Even with alcohol in him, there was no way Gavin was too stupid to realize they were being baited. That he seemed to be baiting Michael, too. That he wasn't even trying to free his hand to tickle him anymore, that it was all just words now.

And Michael was still going to bite.

His right arm raised from where he'd been warding off Meg to grab ahold of Gavin's shirt, just below the collar, and drag him closer until he could feel the little puffs of air Gavin's from near-silent laughter. He was trying his best to stare Gavin down and look angry, or at least stern, but he could feel the corners of his mouth twitching upwards anyway, and it was a struggle to keep his eyes from darting down to his friend's lips with every breath.

"Fine then," Michael said, his voice tight from trying to keep his breathing steady.

He saw Gavin lick his lips again, saw him glancing down at his when he looked back to meet his gaze again, felt the next words hitch in his throat for a little too long as their eyes locked.

"...maybe I will."

He was keenly aware of two things as he pulled Gavin the last few inches to meet his lips. One was the way Lindsay's arm tightened around him, pressing herself into his back and her face into his shoulder. The other was the way Gavin's eyes shut at the last second - not to brace himself as he'd seen the first three times they'd kissed, but slowly and peacefully, without a hint of reluctance in his face.

For that instant, Michael forgot how to breathe.

He hung there for a moment, suddenly a little too aware of his grip on Gavin's wrist and the awkward angle at which they were leaning toward one another. He felt thrown off by how natural it seemed. They'd both known it was coming this time and had days to mentally prepare instead of an instant or minutes like before. This was payback, this was them owing the Meg and Lindsay for the previous weekend's strife, this was their arranged "punishment", maybe with a side of trying to rile up the girls to make the night more interesting. But despite the available time, they'd never talked with each other about any plans or even acknowledged this was coming. Instead Meg had dropped them an opportunity and they'd taken it without question.

Michael realized, as his fingers tightened around Gavin's shirt and his head found the right tilt to comfortably avoid Gavin's nose, that he might even have been looking forward to this.

Just as quickly, he and the alcohol in his system made an agreement not to worry about that until later. For right now, he had an idiot struggling not to laugh against his lips, and he was going to shut him up.

Michael pressed further into the kiss, his grip still pulling Gavin toward him and holding him still in the process. His lips kept twitching with muffled giggles, and Michael was determined to kiss him as firmly as necessary to silence him. It was just his luck that he always wound up kissing the silly ones; Lindsay was prone to fits of laughter mid-makeout that would interrupt them until he could figure out how to distract her.

Gavin, he was quickly learning, was much easier to quiet in that regard than his wife. One quick but firm suck on his lower lip and the Brit's grin melted into relaxation, a hum of approval escaping his throat. Another and he felt Gavin's free hand reach up to rest on his upper arm, balancing himself against Michael's steady pull on his shirt. A third and that same hand squeezed Michael's arm, and Gavin's lips shifted, his head tilting to return the favor.

The pattern was familiar already. Michael's aggressive style of kissing would push Gavin backwards, slowly but surely. Without a headrest to limit them, Michael would have to let up and pull back to center, catching his breath while trying to not let Gavin far enough out of reach to break the kiss. Gavin was far more passive - not motionless, but something akin to lazy, letting Michael guide their pace overall, but contributing his own quick nibbles here and there to throw him off.

When Michael felt his quick gasps for breath start to grow louder, he pulled back, letting go of Gavin's shirt until there was only a slight fold pinched between his fingers. "You ready to knock it off yet?" Michael asked, managing to sound almost serious despite his heavy breathing.

"Nope, 'fraid not," Gavin answered.

"Your backup's never coming, you know that, right?" Michael taunted, smirking at his friend. "It's just you and me, boi, and I'm pretty sure you'll give first."

Gavin looked back at him incredulously. "Are you so sure about that?"

"Pffft. Of course."

Then he felt breath on his neck, and even before Lindsay whispered below his ear he felt his hands go limp from the combination of that warmth and surprise. "Too bad you're wrong," she said as her lips closed against his neck.

"Jesus Christ," Michael muttered breathlessly, his eyes snapping shut as the wet heat of Lindsay's tongue started to work its familiar magic on him. As her arm gave a tight squeeze around him, he remembered his thought that their positions were switched from the previous month, and wondered how he hadn't realized this would be the end result. He was the only one of them who hadn't wound up in the middle of some double team yet, and when Gavin's lips found his again, he suddenly felt like he'd been cheated all along.

True to his threats, with Michael distracted, Gavin's fingers danced their way from his arm to the free side of his neck. He couldn't contain his laughter as he tried again to tickle Michael into squirming. With everything else to counteract it though, Michael only grimaced at the sensation, shrugging to try and squeeze him out but then too focused on Lindsay's teeth grazing the other side of his neck to care.

Still, Michael tried to find some aggression to funnel into the kiss. The unfamiliar sensation of being kissed from both sides was too distracting; he wasn't overwhelmed, just reevaluating his priorities, as fighting back now felt like a choice he'd regret later. Lindsay knew exactly where all his weak points were, and with each passing kiss he felt himself slumping further back against her, his grip on Gavin's wrist and shirt fading.

Gavin's kisses weren't anywhere near as familiar, but were no longer alien enough to be distracting in that sense. By now Michael recognized his slow but comparatively light brushes of his lips against Michael's, the way his stubble scratched but not enough to be annoying, and especially the short, hesitant darts of his tongue against his lips. In all the times they'd played around so far, they'd managed to avoid actually kissing that deeply. It hadn't been a conscious effort on Michael's part - past that first night he'd pinned Gavin to the couch - instead it was just the way he did things. But now it felt like Gavin was having to actively fight the instinct and stop himself repeatedly, which Michael only noticed because it was the only part of his otherwise reckless style that felt cautious.

Michael tried to process that idea, of letting himself french kiss his best friend while his wife was attached to his neck. Just imagining it felt like crossing some kind of line, but from the sudden shift of gravity inside his chest, he was pretty sure he didn't care. He'd watched the girls do it plenty, revelled in the subtle sounds they'd made while they did, and it had only ever left him wanting Lindsay more.

He leaned forward again, up into Gavin's slow motions and smug chuckles, and tilted his head until their lips locked together easily.

Gavin made a surprised noise. The hand still futilely trying to tickle Michael's neck fell still.

He didn't pull back.

Michael's fingers tightened around his shirt again anyway. Just in case.

Michael's next breath came as a low but nearly silent moan. The next was much louder, as Lindsay pulled from the slant of his shoulder with an audible pop and pressed her next kiss a little higher, humming approvingly against his skin just behind his ear. Gavin's response was comparatively tame, like the intrigued sound of someone pleasantly surprised to find they liked a new flavor of ice cream.

A beat passed, a moment of silence hanging in the air as the boys started to sink together.

Then Gavin squawked, reeling back so quick he nearly smacked Lindsay in the forehead on his quest to regain his balance.

Before Michael had a chance to worry he'd just fucked up big time, he and the equally-startled Lindsay followed Gavin's gaze - glare, really - to Meg, who was grinning up from his lap innocently, one hand still brazenly adhered to her boyfriend's ass.

"Turney!" he scolded, his voice coming out more as a whine than the growl he'd intended.

"Oh good, you remembered I'm here," she giggled, sticking her tongue out at him.

He did whine at that, but there was guilt behind the noise, and he reached down to pet her hair apologetically. Meg smiled hard enough to scrunch her nose as she nuzzled his stomach, then stuck her tongue out again. "I definitely told you to pass it on, silly," she teased. Gavin just stared at her in confusion, so she squeezed his butt again, which earned her another scowl and him pursing his lips down toward her.

"She meant to pass on the kisses, not the tickling, dumbass," Michael informed him, doing a rather poor job of hiding the effort involved in quieting his breathing.

"That's what I was _doing_ , idiot," he snapped back, turning his scowl toward Michael.

Meg smirked. "Actually I'm pretty sure _you_ were the one hogging things, _Micoo_ ," she pointed out, making sure to mimic the way Gavin liked to say his name.

"...Oh."

Lindsay cleared her throat, putting on her most dramatically formal voice. "I will take partial blame, as I certainly contributed to his distraction," she announced, holding her hands up in surrender.

"Oh _please_ ," Michael groaned, rolling his eyes, though he was already having a hard time keeping his face straight. He twisted around - carefully, so as not to knock Meg off their laps - until he was mostly facing Lindsay. "You're just trying to make up points so I'll forget you betrayed me and helped Gavin."

She smirked proudly. "You didn't seem to be complaining two minutes ago."

He leaned forward, grabbing her chin in one hand, mirroring her expression back at her. "That's exactly the sort of thing a dirty double crosser would say," he scolded, growing silent as his lips sank against hers.

"Oh, get a room," Gavin teased from behind them, causing them to break apart laughing.

"Nah, not yet," Lindsay answered, still grinning against her husband's lips. "I'm still having fun." She gave him another kiss before adding, "Why? You two need some privacy?"

Meg had sat up part way and was now leaning sideways against Gavin's chest, her legs still extended across their friends' laps. "Now why would we need that?" she asked innocently, turning her attention up to Gavin and raising an eyebrow.

He noticed her expression and returned her gaze out of the corner of his eye. "I haven't the fondest."

They saw Michael shake his head in amusement before the Joneses' kissing became audible again, Michael leaning as far onto Lindsay as the couch and Meg's legs would allow.

It'd been a long time since they were last this shameless in front of their friends. Sure, they'd share long kisses quite often, even in public or on broadcast, but they were usually chaste. It wasn't a matter of embarrassment - Michael hardly knew the meaning of the word, and Lindsay was the type to charge onward no matter how red her face got - but more of manners, both in keeping their private business private and not rubbing their passion in other people's faces. The last time either of them could remember had come a few weeks after Gavin had first gotten together with Meg. Alcohol had made him a little over-informative about some of the more intimate things he missed about his new long distance girlfriend, so Michael had opted to taunt him by showing off how _close_ distance his own girlfriend was.

Their newfound closeness changed things. Now Michael no longer felt rude pinning Lindsay to the arm of the couch in front of their friends, and having him kiss her so fiercely while she knew they were probably watching made Lindsay giddy on a level even higher than his touch and alcohol combined could normally bring her. Michael's hand wove into her hair, supporting her with an elbow settled on the arm of the couch, holding her where his lips and tongue could reacquaint themselves with far more familiar territory. Lindsay had one arm slung around his shoulders, bracing herself with her other while she kissed him back with equal fervor.

Michael pulled back for air, his breath hot against her jaw as he collected his thoughts. He felt fingers reach out and start tracing patterns along his back, and while he assumed they must be Meg's from how gentle the touch was, he neither knew for sure or cared at this point. Instead he nudged Lindsay's chin upwards with his face, planting kisses down the side of her neck in a hot trail that left her gasping and clinging to his back. He twisted further still, trying to pull his leg under him or maybe climb on top of her properly. Meg's legs slipped off his knees, the hand on his back vanishing as she rearranged herself onto Gavin's lap behind him.

That snapped Michael out of it, just far enough to remind him to open his eyes and think more than one breath ahead. Channeling all of his self-control, he let his lips pull from her collarbone with a groan, dragging his teeth across it for good measure. He made a mental note to mark that spot later, then rested his forehead there, panting for a moment before turning his gaze up towards Lindsay's face.

"Hmm?" she murmured, eyes blinking to focus on her husband.

He smirked, leaning up to kiss her lips briefly before whispering, "Pass it on."

Lindsay blinked again, glancing between him and the others slowly at first, then more deliberately as a grin spread across her face. "Right," she whispered back, letting him sit forward on the couch again before she tried to make any moves of her own.

"Excuse me, miss," she greeted Meg, her voice intentionally and exaggeratedly sultry.

"Why hello," Meg answered, lifting her head from Gavin's chest and moving one hand to cover and still his where it had started squeezing her thigh some time in the last few minutes.

"I think I've got something that belongs to you."

"Oh?" Meg feigned surprise, having already caught on to Lindsay's intentions. She let herself lean forward slightly, not even bothering to hide the way her focus fell straight to Lindsay's lips.

"Yeah," Lindsay said, leaning forward as well. She let one hand rest on Michael's thigh, bracing herself to lean across his lap, and reached out to lace her fingers into Meg's hair, drawing her closer gently. "I thought I should return it."

Meg chuckled, tilting her head as Lindsay's lips drew near, then murmuring against them. "How thoughtful of you."

 

* * *

 

 

Mornings on a couch, staring at a ceiling, with a sleeping weight on his chest were becoming almost commonplace to Gavin. This time it was only Meg there, which was a far more familiar and more comfortable sensation than an entire pile of people restricting his breathing, albeit a bit chillier.

Upon waking he'd adjusted the blanket they were sharing to make sure they were both still covered, then had spent an amount of time he couldn't measure - because his phone was somewhere on the floor with his jeans and almost all the rest of their clothing - just listening to Meg breathe and stroking her hair.

A door creaked open somewhere in the house, and mentally Gavin followed the sound of shuffling feet into the bathroom, through a flush of the toilet and the running of the sink, and then out to the fridge via the other entry.

"Boi? That you?" Gavin called quietly, tilting his head as far away from Meg's ear as he could manage.

The fridge door rattled closed and Michael's voice answered. "No, it's definitely Geoff."

Gavin snorted. "Good morning to you too."

A few cupboard doors later, Michael appeared in the doorway with a glass of orange juice, leaning against the wall and taking a long slow drink of it, studying his friends carefully as he did. Finally he lowered the cup, wiping his mouth before nodding toward it. "Want me to get you some?" he offered.

Gavin shook his head slightly. "Nah. 'm alright for now."

Michael nodded, taking another sip and then sighing deeply, turning his attention toward the dim light making its way through the blinds. "...You sleep alright?" he ventured, offering conversation quietly since Gavin was clearly trying not to wake Meg yet.

He gave the verbal equivalent of a shrug in response, following Michael's gaze to the window. "As well as I can on the sofa. 's a bit short for me, really." He nodded toward his feet, stretching them out to show that they rested on the arm of the couch when he did.

"We'll get a spare bedroom in our next place," Michael shrugged.

"Could just get a foldaway," Gavin suggested, to which Michael nodded thoughtfully.

"How 'bout you?"

"Can't complain."

After another quiet moment and most the glass of orange juice, Michael wandered over to the couch and sat down on the coffee table, just across from Gavin.

"Sup?" Gavin asked, grateful he could speak much more quietly now and have less worry of waking Meg.

"Just thinking still."

"'Still'?"

Michael blinked, then shook his head. "No. Well, yeah. I guess."

"Care to share?"

Michael sighed, raising the glass to his mouth but not drinking, just tapping his teeth against the rim pensively instead. "Eh."

Gavin scoffed quietly, rolling his eyes. "Clearly you do, or else you wouldn't have mentioned it."

Michael sighed again, putting the glass down and staring back out the window.

"Boi?"

Another sigh, this one more frustrated, and Michael shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure."

"Oi. Well, maybe I can help you be sure?"

Michael snorted like something about Gavin's offer was funny to him, so Gavin whined at him, pointing a pout his way when he turned his attention back.

"Come off it now. I'm your boi, Micoo. Surely you can tell me about whatever it is."

Michael shook his head again, smiling to himself. "You're a moron, you know that?"

"Well, it's not like you'd let me forget it."

Gavin watched his friend for a moment, trying to gauge what was on his mind. His heart was, inexplicably, hammering madly in his chest, and the longer Michael took to answer him the more concerned he was both that whatever was bothering Michael involved him somehow and that Meg would be rattled awake by his heartbeat. He resumed stroking her hair, more for his own comfort now than anything, and kept his eyes on Michael, waiting as patiently as he could manage.

"I just." Michael sighed yet again, reaching up and pushing his hair back in exasperation. "Are you really sure you're okay with all this?"

Gavin blinked, first in confusion over what Michael meant, then in surprise that that of all things was his concern. "You mean everything from last night, right?"

Michael's looked back, dumbfounded, then let his forehead rest into his hand, muttering, "Yes, that."

"Don't tell me you're fussing about it now all of a sudden after all that talk about not caring."

"I'm-" his brow furrowed and he scoffed, "No, I'm not."

Gavin rolled his eyes. "You sure? Because this feels a lot like fussing."

"Okay, listen. When I said all of that? I was only thinking about the girls."

"And?"

"And not…" Michael squeezed his eyes shut, chewing on his lower lip. "Not us."

Gavin hesitated for a bit longer than he wanted to, unsure how to word his counterargument. Talking with Meg earlier in the week and hearing her thoughts about how things were progressing between her and Lindsay had already eased any remaining nerves he'd had. "Well, no," he admitted, frowning as he composed his thoughts. "But I mean, it's just good fun, isn't it? We've known each other for years. You slept the whole bloody night on me not even a fortnight ago. Hell, I'm not sure I've gone a day without texting you or something at least once in three years. So what's a snog here and there between lads? It's hardly the oddest thing we've done."

Michael re-opened his eyes and stared at him a long while, until Gavin started to get nervous and tried to shift anxiously without also disturbing Meg or their blanket. She sighed in her sleep and nuzzled into his chest when he moved, and he winced, shooshing her gently and returning to stroking her hair.

"Michael," Gavin said once she'd stilled once more, looking at Michael quite pointedly. "Listen to me, boi. You know this is all weird for me too, alright?"

Michael gave the barest of nods, pulling at his face with his hands and then sighing into them. "Yeah. Yeah I know."

"So I mean," he paused again, wetting his lips as he struggled once more with his phrasing. It was far too early to be trying to have this serious of a conversation, and he refused to flub anything. "I mean, if you're bothered by any of it, any of it at all. I want you to say so, alright? I won't be fussed about it. I mean, it's not like I've secretly been dying to kiss you for years or anything," he joked, offering Michael a cheeky smile.

Michael managed a weak smirk back at him. "I feel like there are hundreds of clips on youtube that disagree."

"Only hundreds? Christ, I better step up my game!"

Michael couldn't help but laugh quietly at that, shaking his head in disappointment over how dumb the joke was.

"But, honestly," Gavin continued, "if you are uncomfortable, I think it's better if you say something now, before we get too accustomed."

The corners of Michael's mouth turned up in a faintly amused smile. "I never said _I_ was the uncomfortable one, dumbass."

Gavin blinked, tilting his head to stare at Michael in confusion straight on. "Then what've you been on about?"

"I was worried about _you_ ," he answered, like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. "Duh."

"Oh." He blinked again. "Well."

For a moment they just sat in silence, Michael occasionally letting out single near-silent laughs of disbelief as he shook his head. "Jesus christ," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You really are so fucking dense. I don't know how Meg puts up with you."

"Hey now," Gavin interrupted, scowling back at his teammate. "You've put up with me way longer."

"Yeah, but I get to go home afterward," Michael teased.

Gavin grinned back at him. "That spare bedroom's starting to sound like a bad idea now, isn't it?"

"Hey, if you want to sleep on this uncomfortable couch forever, be my fucking guest. It's your loss, buddy."

They both tried their best to look seriously disappointed about the exchange, but cracked quickly, barely able to keep their laughter quiet.

"Alright, I think that's settled," Michael said finally, standing up and stretching his back out. "I'm going to go get a shower in before Lindsay wakes up. You two get some fucking clothes on, ok?" He reached down to tussle Gavin's hair before he walked away.

"You better save me some hot water," he called after Michael.

"Yeah you're gonna have to fight Linds on that one," he answered, waving over his shoulder.

Gavin just grinned to himself, waiting for the bathroom door to shut before he kissed Meg on the forehead and let his eyes slip back shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah. This chapter took freaking forever, sorry. I had company in town for most of last week and between that and Iron Banner I've just been lol what is writing. Thank you so much everyone for your patience <3  
> As of this posting, this chapter's unbeta'd, I kind of did the last third of it while my beta was asleep. I'll update it once it is.  
> Also, no, I can't keep track of what I think the layouts of their respective houses are. Just go with it. All you need to know (and tbh I think this is backwards from real life) is there is one big L shaped couch at the Jones' and there's a separate couch and loveseat at the Turnfree house because that's honestly the only thing I've mentally kept consistent, sorry.
> 
> ADDED AFTERTHOUGHT: I spent like 15 minutes on Urban Dictionary trying to figure out if there is a term for the "pass the kiss" telephone/hot-potato style game they were playing in this but I've got nothing? so if anyone knows (not like, suggestions, but like, oh hey nah this is the slang term for it), pleeeaaase enlighten me. It's gonna freaking kill me.


	8. Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're more like guidelines, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. I tried to make it clear, but might have failed, so.  
> 1\. This is really text message heavy. If the images are too annoying - too large, whatever, or if you'd just rather get an imageless version, let me know, I'll post an imageless rendition as the following chapter.  
> 2\. All but the first and last bits that are cut in between the text conversation are events that happen after this chapter (but before the next).

For the last hour, Lindsay had been sprawled out across the couch, head propped up on the arm and a pillow with her laptop on her lap, alternating between watching YouTube videos with one earbud in and laughing at Michael's repeated losses. Then her phone had buzzed a couple minutes ago, and she hadn't put it back down since.

Michael leaned his head back from his spot on the floor, letting it bonk into her arm as he tried to look at her upside down. "Who ya textin'?"

"Just Meg," she shrugged.

"Oh cool. They doing anything tonight?"

"Dunno."

"Well, tell her I'm hungry."

Lindsay laughed, finally looking up from the phone. "How's that her problem?"

"Because Gavin's probably hungry too and we should all get dinner."

"Mmmkay," she chuckled, holding her laptop with one hand to stabilize it so she could lean over and kiss his forehead, "I'll tell her."

"Sweet."

Lindsay put her phone back down, waiting for Michael to die again before updating him.

"Gav's in the shower, she'll ask if he wants to do something afterwards."

"This late? Goddamn, and I thought we were lazy today."

"Hey, _I_ was still up before noon."

"Yeah, for once."

She glared at him and he glanced back to see why she was still silent. "What? I know I slept even later. I'm just saying we don't exactly have a track record of being up early on Sundays."

"Uh-huh." Lindsay sighed and reached over, absentmindedly playing with the bits of his hair that were visible past his beanie. "Since it _is_ pretty late already, you wanna pick out some place now so we can all just go when he gets out?"

"Nah. I can't think of a damn place that wouldn't be packed."

"You mean you can't think of any place you two haven't embarrassed us in in the last two months."

He put his controller down to glare at her, letting himself die in the process.

"Kidding, kidding."

"Good," he said, resuming his game, "because that's only happened, like, _three_ times in the last year."

"Sure it has baby," she said, placating him. She set her phone back down on her chest and clicking on another video.

Five minutes later, her phone buzzed again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"Alright kids, shut up. The nice man wants to know what we're ordering."

"One of everything!"

"You better fucking pull out your card if that's the case. I'm not paying for all that."

Lindsay glared into the back seat, having to twist around to look at Gavin directly. When his laughter was replaced by puppy eyes, she motioned to him with two fingers that she was watching him.

Drive thrus were enough of a headache without Gavin yelling right in her ear. No one could ever be bothered to pick out what they wanted before they got to the speaker, and the guys always talked over each other.

"Fine, then. You go ahead, love," Gavin offered to Meg, who smiled graciously and then leaned up through the center to say her order, which Lindsay then repeated louder.

"I'm still thinking," Michael said gruffly when Lindsay looks at him next, face scrunched in exaggerated concentration, as though he was ever going to order anything but a #3 combo.

"Fine," she sighed, turning toward the window to place her own order. She could feel Gavin pulling himself up in between her seat and Michael's and braced herself for another round of ringing ears.

When a noise prompted her to turn, however, it wasn't Gavin shouting or Michael ordering. It was an odd yelp of a noise from Meg, which then dissolved into giggles by the time Lindsay actually turned.

Except her view of Meg was obstructed by the side of Gavin's head. And of Michael's.

Her husband was definitely turned halfway around in his seat to kiss his best friend, who in turn was balancing precariously with one hand on the cup holder.

They both looked incredibly proud of themselves, and if she weren't so busy trying not to erupt into giggles herself, she'd gag on their smugness.

Instead she just leaned over to kiss Michael as soon as Gavin was seated again.

"There'll be more where that came from when we get home," Gavin purred to Meg behind them.

The speaker crackled outside the car. "Did you need anything else this evening?"

Lindsay was staring at the monitor intently, trying to gauge a good angle for the next day's Megacraft flyover. Matt and Jeremy had been stolen without warning for something crazy involving a How To and the great outdoors, so Jeremy had asked her to get on his box in the LP room and do it for him so he could get right to editing in the morning. It was a simple task and he'd done favors for her plenty, so she didn't mind, but there were a lot of little ground level details to this map and she was trying to find the most efficient path through them.

"There you are!"

Meg's voice was as sunny as ever as she poked through the curtains and spotted Lindsay.

Lindsay looked up and nodded toward her, "'Sup?"

"You realize it's close to 7, right?"

"I'm not surprised."

"Well, I've been done with everything for over an hour."

"That's nice," Lindsay teased, sticking her tongue out and then looking back at the screen. "I don't see what I have to do with that."

"I can't leave until Gavin's ready to go."

"I'm _not_ driving him home."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to hurry up so that Michael will let this round of that Bread game end so I can take Gavin home."

"Oh god, they're _still_ at that?"

"Unfortunately."

"I'll do what I can, but I promised Jeremy I'd get this done before I left."

Meg nodded, sighing as she leaned on the back of Lindsay's chair, resting her chin on her friend's head and watching her work. Slowly she slumped further down until her arms were looped loosely around Lindsay's chest and her head was rested on her shoulder, leaving them cheek to cheek.

"Being adorable isn't going to make me work any faster," Lindsay joked, tilting her head a bit so their temples rubbed together.

"Drat. My well-forged plans, foiled again," Meg giggled.

Lindsay closed her eyes, leaving their faces to rest together for a moment, then turning a bit further so their lips brushed together. She could feel Meg smile as she leaned further forward to make the kiss easier. The chair tilted back under their weight, then lurched all at once, leaving them to pull apart in a panic at fear of it falling and burst out in nervous laughter once it didn't.

Meg grinned, leaning in to give Lindsay another quick kiss before letting her get back to work, but stopped midway when she saw someone standing halfway through the curtains.

Gilby stared at her for several seconds, and she stared back wide-eyed and fearful, unsure of how long he'd been standing there.

He just shrugged back at her, making a hand motion to show his lips were zipped and then covering his eyes for a second. Meg relaxed instantly, covering her heart while it calmed down.

Lindsay looked up at her in question, having missed Gilby's presence, and Meg motioned toward the door where he was now acting as if he'd only just arrived.

"Excuse me ladies," he announced in his favorite fake-not-really-Russian accent, "but we have returned and the boys they will be needing their seats so that we can show them how it is to do this game."

Lindsay gave Meg a confused glance as she turned around, then stretched and set the controller down. "Okay cool," she said as the other three filed in, "if you guys left him alive that means Jeremy can finish this on his own after all."

They scurried out of the room before anyone could object.

"So. You guys do anything cool over the weekend?" Barb asked as Lindsay climbed into the passenger seat.

Lindsay shrugged, buckling her seatbelt. "Eh, it was a weekend."

"So just 'bevs and Mario Party' then?" she asked, then, "Also are we meeting Arryn and Kara there, or do I need to get back out and clear the back seat."

"Oh. Uh." Lindsay pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing over her texts and then sending one to both of them asking what the plan was. "We'll know in a minute."

"Sweet."

"But yeah, just bevs and Mario Party."

"No epic tales from the valley of the Mavin?"

Lindsay laughed, distracting herself by scrolling through her phone in hopes it would keep her from remembering the weekend well enough to start blushing and betray… whatever lie she was about to make up. Because the truth wasn't interesting enough for Barb to take as one of Lindsay's favored hyperbolic lies, but still enough so to quicken her pulse at the memory.

Apparently when presented with just the right combination of alcohol and necking - specifically, lips applied just behind the tendon on his neck and sucking for all they're worth - Gavin's instinctive reaction was to try to moan, and in failing to do so because his lungs hadn't bothered to breathe in first, reach up to cling almost painfully to the hair of whoever was kissing him.

She had found this out because Meg had offered to show Michael "the spot" if he won the Minigame star. Actually, Meg had specifically described Gavin's reaction as "like when a dog starts kicking at the air because you're scratching just the right spot", and from the way Gavin's legs had started to curl up with Michael still pinning him to the couch, she wasn't far off base.

So Lindsay had gotten a front row view of Gavin's fingers twisting into her husband's hair and pulling harder than she'd ever dared, and of Michael wincing as he pulled away, and the frustrated, desperate groan he let out as he did, and of the little whimper that came from Gavin as Michael reached up to lace his fingers into Gavin's hair to hold his head still…

She'd missed whatever happened next, because suddenly her whole world had been Meg's lips brushing against her ear from behind and the words, "What about you? You have a spot I should know about?"

Yeah, that wasn't something she felt like telling Barb about. Too much detail and earnestly too tame to tell Barb as one of her normal tall tales.

"Oh, y'know," Lindsay said finally, blinking to clear the memory from her eyes, "just the usual. You get those boys drunk and they can't keep their hands off each other. They spent like three hours eating each others' asses while Meg and I watched and made out."

"Ooooo," Barb said, pretending to be shocked by the scandalous news. "What dirty boys. And how exciting, now you and Meg are getting in on the action, huh?"

"Pffft, as if-" Lindsay answered, though she realized her mistake quickly. Her stories usually didn't involve her and Meg even acknowledging each others' existence, aside from the spare high five, and any time Barb would "suggest" it she'd loudly reject the idea.

Now she'd accidentally said they'd been playing too…

"As if?"

There was a clunk on the outside of the car and both their heads snapped to the left. There were their missing friends, knocking on the window and waving excitedly.

Barb rolled down her window just far enough to shout, "We don't want any!" at them, throwing her car into reverse and backing up a few feet, leaving the others dramatically running alongside them.

Lindsay laughed, putting her phone away, then breathed the quietest sigh of relief she could manage. For right now, Barb was distracted, and she couldn't be more grateful.

"No seriously, give it back."

"Give what back?"

"Meg." Michael was staring her down, arms crossed and brow furrowed as she hid his phone behind her.

"Michael," she said back, smiling a little too innocently.

"My phone."

"What about your phone?"

"Give it back. Now."

"I don't have your phone."

Michael sighed, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow in the universal sign of "bitch, please".

Meg just giggled.

"I swear to god, if you send everyone Candy Crush invites again, there will be consequences."

"What kind of consequences?"

Michael groaned, turning to look at Gavin. "Help me out here dude," he said, motioning to Meg.

He looked up from the TV, lowering his controller just long enough to put the situation together, then laughed and went back to his game. "Fuck no. I'm not bloody well getting mixed up in this again."

Michael turned to Lindsay instead, who'd spent the entire exchange leaning against the kitchen door frame, chewing on the stick from an ice cream bar. She chuckled, pulling it out of her mouth long enough to tell him, "You're a big boy. You can handle this yourself."

Michael sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Meg didn't even have a good reason to take his phone this time. He'd just made the mistake of leaving it on the couch while he went to the bathroom, and come back into the room to find her sending herself items in Facebook games. "Fine then. I guess I'm left with no choice."

He hadn't wanted this evening to turn into another tickle fight. He really hadn't. But Meg had forced his hand.

Meg seemed defenseless, sitting on the couch while Michael was coming at her from above, but she was strong, lithe, and used to wrestling Gavin a ridiculous number of times per week. She darted away from Michael as quickly as he managed to grab at her sides, climbing onto the arm of the sofa, then the back, then across the room toward the kitchen, trying to hide behind Lindsay. Each time, Michael managed only one or two pokes to her ribs before she fled again. Meg dodged the rest and tossed the phone from hand to hand as she ran to keep it out of his reach.

When Meg tried to use her as cover, Lindsay carefully sidestepped out of the way, then climbed onto the kitchen counter to avoid getting caught up in the fight. "Get her, babe!" she cheered, tossing the spent stick into the garbage can beside the counter.

"I'm trying," he snapped back at her, momentarily pinning Meg to the fridge only for her to dodge under his arm and race back out of the kitchen before he could react, shrieking with laughter the whole way.

Michael caught back up to her in the living room, where she was standing on the center of the couch, poised to run in either direction. She'd chosen her perch poorly though, and when Michael stood in front of her, her choices were to jump over Gavin or dart back to the left, which would give Michael plenty of time to grab at her before she could escape.

"You can end this now," Michael said theatrically, panting for breath. "You've got the power. Just give me back the phone, and no one gets hurt." He wiggled his fingers, indicating that he wasn't afraid to tickle her for all she was worth.

Meg smirked back at him, taking on the same action movie tone. "Never. I'd sooner die than give it back."

Before Michael had a chance to dive at her, she reached up, phone in hand, and then pulled back the neck of her shirt, tucking the phone into her bra and leaving both her hands free.

Michael broke posture instantly, hands falling to his sides as he groaned in annoyance. "Oh _come on_. That's cheating," he complained.

"Says who?"

"Says anyone. You know I can't get it back from there."

"That's not cheating, that's strategizing."

"Uh-huh. That's not what I'd call it."

"What would _you_ call it, then?"

"I'd call it seriously, fuck you, give me back my phone."

Lindsay clapped her hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him out of the way. "Excuse me, I'll take it from here."

Michael blinked, surprised that Lindsay had decided to take part after all. "This isn't a trick, is it?"

"Of course not. If she's going to play dirty, we'll just have to fight fire with fire."

"Oh yeah?" Meg asked, unimpressed. "What's your plan?"

"Michael might not be able to get his phone back, but I'm not afraid to."

Meg didn't miss the fire in Lindsay's eyes as she spoke the words, and she felt the excitement rise in her chest as she taunted her friend. "Is that so? I'd like to see you try."

Lindsay needed no further invitation.

The next ten seconds were a blur as she hopped up on the couch, managing to get her arms around Meg's waist as she tried to run. By sheer size difference she was able to drag her friend down to her knees, her back pressed to Lindsay's front, one leg trapped under Lindsay's. Meg was laughing hysterically as she tried to pull away, grabbing at Lindsay's arms, then, upon failing to pry them off her, lurching forward to try crawling away. Lindsay was dead weight attached to her. She just leaned onto her, pinning her onto her hands and knees.

"I've got you now," Lindsay growled against her back, laughing as she scooted herself forward to pin Meg better. She was sure that even her full weight wouldn't hurt the older girl - after all, she was far stronger than she looked, a fact they were all prone to forgetting - but she still tried to not just collapse on top of her.

"You haven't won yet," Meg cackled.

"You know you've lost, Turney. Give me the phone. Don't make me use my secret weapon."

"I'll never surrender."

One of Lindsay's arms wrapped up over Meg's shoulder, diving into the loose neck of her shirt. She paused with her fingers just touching the valley of her friend's cleavage, nowhere near the stolen iPhone, but waiting, breath held, just in case Meg stopped her.

She didn't.

Her fingers slid between bra and skin, her face buried against Meg's back as she searched for some sign of hard plastic. She felt Meg stiffen under her, holding her breath as well, so her hand retreated, pausing again in the center.

"What's the matter?" Meg taunted, something about her voice suddenly darker. "Can't find it?"

"Oh I'll find it," Lindsay countered, leaning harder on her back. "I won't give up that easily."

Meg shivered as Lindsay's hand pulled back out of her collar, sliding down her side to slip under her shirt from below instead. From the corner of her eye, Lindsay saw Michael suddenly turn away as the fabric edged toward Meg's bra, and she chuckled to herself. They'd all seen Meg's modeling photos before - they were impossible _not_ to see - but she could see how it would be different in person, and Michael was still a man of honor. Mostly.

She shut her eyes again, steeling her nerves, then slid her hand along the plane of Meg's stomach until she found the curve of her bra from below. Lindsay squeezed through the fabric, gently first, then harder as she found the shape of the phone against the softness of Meg's breast. She tried to nudge it free, but it was trapped from the angle.

"Fuck it," she mumbled into Meg's back, grabbing ahold of the bottom edge of her bra and sliding it up until the phone - and her breast - slipped free.

Lindsay tried to grab at the phone to pass it to Michael, but felt Meg's weight shift under her and found thin fingers wrapped around her wrist, holding it where it was and pressing it into her chest.

"...Meg," Lindsay whispered, gasping for breath before hiding her face in between her shoulder blades again.

Meg gave an approving hum, shifting her arms again so she sunk onto one elbow.

Giggling, she flopped onto her stomach, pinning Lindsay's hand between the couch and her chest. "You've activated my trap card."

Lindsay was left laughing hysterically atop Meg, unable to stop long enough to untangle her arms from beneath her or to realize Michael's phone was still trapped under them.

"Gaaaaavin. Good job!"

Gavin bolted upright in his chair as Ryan let the door slam behind him on his way back in from The Patch. Ryan usually only sounded that cheerful if he was plotting someone's doom, and right now Gavin couldn't think of anything he might have done to piss Ryan off. Not intentionally, at least.

"...Thanks?" he ventured, eyeing his co-worker warily.

"Congratulations on being a man finally," Ryan said with a grin, patting Gavin on the shoulder enthusiastically. His tone was tinged with just enough sarcasm that Gavin was still nervous, but confusion was winning.

"Finally? I'm well near 27, Ryan."

Geoff snorted from the other side of the room, glancing up from his computer. "Yeah, and you still lived in my shed until last summer."

"Bought a house younger than you ever did," he retorted.

"It's okay buddy, don't be shy. I saw Meg's neck." Ryan made a motion to pointing to a spot near his own shoulder.

"...Oh," Gavin said, eyes going wide. Beside him, Michael was trying to contain his sniggering, smirking at Gavin out the corner of his eye. "Yeah, that."

They both knew damn well Lindsay was the one who had made that hickey, and neither one was sure if the accusation or the truth was the part making Gavin blush.

"I gotta admit, I didn't think you had it in you. Keep it up and you might just lose your virginity before Ray."

Ray glanced over without turning his head, then decided against jumping in.

Gavin looked too perturbed to answer, his face contorting into different levels of insult and disgust.

"Awww Ryan, don't be so hard on him," Michael interjected. One look at the way he was smiling and Gavin wasn't sure he wanted him coming to his rescue, and he leveled a warning gaze at his friend. "Don't you know? Our dear Gavvers is a _gentle_ lover."

Ryan chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he said, " _Ohhh_ ," in the most knowing, intrigued tone available.

"Well forgive me for not feeling the need to 'mark my territory' like some Year 8. I am _respectful_ of my girlfriend, which includes not making being on camera most the week difficult for her." Gavin glanced back and forth between Michael and Ryan, who were both smiling skeptically back at him. "...Usually," he added, taking the current situation into account.

" _Sure_ you are," Ryan countered.

"Look, a bloke is entitled to get carried away now and then, isn't he?"

Michael laughed loud enough that the whole room turned and looked. "Carried away, huh? Is that why you've got a matching one?"

Gavin yelped in alarm as Michael slid over, hooking his fingers on the collar of Gavin's polo and yanking it down a bit more roughly than necessary. Sure enough, there was a purple blotch there that rivalled the one Meg had tried in vain to hide under a few layers of concealer and powder.

And Michael was showing it off a bit too proudly, knowing damn well he was the one who'd put it there, even if he couldn't say so.

" _Michael_ ," Gavin scolded, swatting his hand away and pulling his collar tight. "Geez, why is everyone so rude today?" he complained, buttoning it up all the way.

"Oh like you're one to fucking talk," Michael answered, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

"What?! I haven't done _anything_ today."

" _Today_."

"Yes, today."

Ryan was trying his best to contain his laughter at the lads' arguing, cheeks puffed ridiculously as he feigned some shred of maturity. Meg's hickey hadn't even been visible; she'd just told him to tease Gavin about it, not that he was in any hurry to tell them.

  


Lindsay gasped as she was pushed harder to the wall, Gavin suddenly pressing more insistently to his girlfriend who was pinned between the two of them, backed up against Lindsay. Meg broke free from his lips with a moan, head rolling back onto Lindsay's shoulder.

"Shit. Wow," Lindsay cursed against Meg's jaw. Her lips were tracing the areas she'd already left slick from several minutes of worshiping the older girl's neck, prompting little whimpers from Meg now that her lips were free.

Meg's head was trapped, Lindsay's head on one side, Gavin's hand against the wall on the other, though it hardly mattered compared to the hold they both had on her, not that escaping was remotely near on her mind anyway. She let go of Gavin with one hand, reaching back to pull Lindsay's head closer instead, craning her neck until their lips met.

Lindsay groaned as Meg wasted no time pulling her into a deep kiss. Her lips still felt wet and swollen from how long she'd been kissing Gavin, her movements slow and almost inebriated even though none of them had had even a beer tonight.

They were supposed to be waiting for Michael to return from the store with alcohol, Thai food, and possibly some of their other friends in tow. The moment the door had shut, Gavin had suggested they use their time wisely, a wink punctuating his sentence as Meg climbed into his lap. Lindsay had spent only a few seconds deliberating before scooping Meg off him and carrying her across the room, kissing her while flashing Gavin a middle finger.

She'd lost track of how much time had passed since then, but now Gavin was kissing down Meg's neck with his trademark, almost-too-soft technique, making Meg squirm between them and let out little gasps into Lindsay's mouth.

After one squirm in particular, Lindsay felt her hips pushed back against the wall, hard, and Meg's fingers tightened almost painfully in her hair. Gavin chuckled to himself, and as the next press to the wall brought a whimper from Meg that pulled her free from Lindsay's lips, she suddenly understood what was happening. Lindsay shivered, feeling a heat sink through her at the realization. She gasped out loud, earning a wide, glaze-eyed smile from Meg before her eyes slipped shut again.

"Mmmm. Bad Gavino. Knock it off," Meg told Gavin, burying her face in his hair. Her voice was a whisper, but it was more that she was breathless than intentionally quiet.

"Fine," he mumbled back, not pulling his lips from her neck.

Meg turned her attention back to Lindsay, her eyes only marginally more focused as their gaze met.

Lindsay needed no further prompting, her lips sinking back onto Meg's, no matter how awkward the angle was or how dazed the attention was leaving her. Her eyes shut, letting her world shrink to the now-familiar dance of Meg's tongue against hers and the little almost desperate noises she and Gavin were making.

Distantly she found herself hoping that Michael hadn't invited anyone else over after all, and that he'd hurry home.

It was nearly 11, and Michael was seriously getting the  feeling they weren't making it home tonight either. They'd already stayed in Gavin and Meg's spare room the night before, which in turn had still been dishevelled from when they'd stayed over the previous weekend, complete with the pair of pants Michael hadn't been able to find all week hidden under the bed. Lindsay'd brought a pillow from home this week, complaining that this bed was squishier than theirs and she needed something to put between her knees while she slept.

Michael had watched her this morning as she'd bagged up the clothes they'd worn the day before - bringing a spare pair with them was just commonplace by now - and the towel they'd shared there for a while, but had left the pillow on the bed. "What?" she'd asked when he'd asked if she wasn't forgetting it. "Oh. Nah, I've got plenty more at home. I'm sure I'll need it again, might as well leave it here."

He'd felt something odd pull in his chest at that. He didn't have a word for it, didn't know how to explain it, but the same sensation hit him later when the washer beeped while she was in the room and Lindsay offered to put the laundry into the dryer for them.

Now he and Meg were sitting on the couch watching Food Network, his feet up on the coffee table, her back to the arm of the couch and her feet in turn on his lap, taking bets as to who was winning the whole match. The winner had to buy Denny's for them all the next morning.

Lindsay and Gavin were on the floor near the dining room, taking turns making voices for Smee as the Siamese very patiently allowed him to wave his paws. When Lindsay told Gavin to give her his phone so she could get a better angle, Michael found himself missing the announcement of the episode's winners as the feeling overtook him again.

He still couldn't place it, but he recognize it better now. It was the same feeling that left him grinning when he was supposed to be yelling at Gavin for a Let's Play, that made watching Lindsay win at Versus feel better than his own victories, and that he'd felt watching her jokingly threaten to beat up his brothers the first time he introduced her to them. It was the same sense of peace that made Rage Quit feel harder and harder to keep up with by the month.

Lindsay handed Gavin back his phone to review the video, taking Smee from him and cuddling the cat to her chest tightly. Michael chuckled to himself, glancing over at Meg to see if she'd noticed. To his surprise, she was wearing the same gentle smile he could feel on his own face, her eyes also trained on their significant others instead of the TV.

Gavin looked up after reviewing the video and seemed to notice that Meg was looking his way. "Oi, look at this!" he cheered, hopping to his feet and over to the couch to hand his phone to Meg proudly.

She took it, turning around to sit straight on the couch, giving him space to sit between herself and Michael as she watched the video Lindsay'd taken. Gavin took the seat, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and beaming proudly at the screen the whole time. "It's hardly my best work, but I think that between this and the voices you do for Penny we may well be onto something," he explained half-jokingly, starting the video over to replay the bit he'd talked over.

Michael watched for a second, then looked up when he noticed Lindsay stand up across the room. She smiled back at him, bouncing Smee in her arms and kissing him on the head when he meowed. He scooted over a bit, squishing the other two closer to each other as he tried to leave enough space on the barely-wide-enough couch for Lindsay to sit beside him. She took the invitation, nuzzling the side of his head once she sat down and holding Smee close to him to pet.

"I still want one," Lindsay giggled to him.

Michael laughed silently back at her, petting the cat as instructed and kissing Lindsay on the temple. "I know you do. After we move someplace bigger," he promised, not for the first time.

She nodded, pulling her feet up onto the couch and leaning into him. "In the mean time, I'll just steal Smee," she decided, scritching him on the head. As though insulted by the prospect of being taken from his dad, he climbed out of Lindsay's arms, walking across Michael to go rub heis face on Gavin before hopping down and disappearing from the room.

"I'm guessing that was her way of saying no," Michael shrugged. Lindsay cast him a pout, punching him lightly in the ribs before turning her attention to the episode of Cutthroat Kitchen that was starting. He just laughed, resting his head atop hers.

Michael woke up to the sounds of infomercials some time later, yawning loudly. He started to ask what time it was, but stopped two words in, realizing he wasn't the only one who'd fallen asleep. Lindsay was still curled under his arm where she had been before, one arm tucked behind him to hug him around the middle, her head resting over his heart. Gavin was sleeping far less gracefully, his snoring face leaned against Michael's other shoulder. Meg had turned back around, probably after Gavin had fallen asleep, and had her legs stretched across both boys' laps, her hands wrapped around one of Gavin's on top of her thigh.

He was losing count of how often they fell asleep like this, just like he was losing track of how often they stayed here or he woke up on a weekend to find their friends still asleep on his couch. And honestly, the only part he minded was that he couldn't reach the remote to turn off the TV.

Michael glanced around the office, surveying who was left in the office. Ryan and Ray were gone for On the Spot, which he was seriously considering going to watch once rehearsal was over. Geoff had finished the last game of a HUNT a few minutes before and then left without warning, presumably to talk to Gus or terrorize the stage somehow. Jack was focused on his computer, intently editing the HUNT they'd just finished recording. The build team was probably still mostly in their office, and with the scope of the Minecraft series they were editing right now  and Matt determined to make sure the next big project dwarfed it, he wasn't surprised that he'd barely seen any of them all day.

Lindsay and Steffie had wandered past around 3, returning to the room with an armload of sodas and goldfish to a triumphant welcome. He'd heard Lindsay laugh, thanking them for their recognition and passing out the sodas before peeking back into the main office and coming over to lean on the back of Michael's chair.

She'd given him a soda, offered to grab some for the other lads as long as she was up, then replied, "Good, because I was going to tell you to get them yourselves," when they both told her they were fine.

Lindsay made small talk with her husband for a few minutes, clearly stalling to savor what was likely going to be her last chance to stand up until they left that night. It was only when Kdin popped out of the room to look for her that she finally sighed and prepared to retreat.

That was when she'd leaned over Michael's shoulder, hugging him tight for a moment and then kissing him on the cheek first, then lips, before whispering against his ear, "Pass it on."

He'd stared at her, more than a bit bewildered, knowing exactly what the words meant - it had been close to a month since they'd first played that game - but no one had ever invoked it at work before. As he watched her, slack jawed, she'd laughed and winked at him, reaching over to tussle Gavin's hair as she started to walk away.

Gavin had grinned and waved bye to her. Michael was still just frozen.

Now it was a half hour later and the office was nearly empty, and Michael could still feel his lips tingling from where she'd kissed him any time he looked near the wall dividing the two rooms.

On one hand, he could just tell her no, that it violated their "nothing at work" rule. On the other, he knew that that rule, like so many of the others, had slowly gone out the window in the previous weeks.

He licked his lips, spinning in his chair to turn away from the build room and back to Gavin.

It would be so easy to just fake it. Lindsay wasn't there to see. No one was there to see. No one would ever know if he only pretended to pass it on, if he just told Gavin that Lindsay had said so and left it at that. Okay, so Gavin might blunder in a couple days and admit to it, or he might get drunk enough to say so himself, but that was if either of them remembered that long.

Michael gave a nervous glance back over his shoulder, making sure Jack was still absorbed in his editing, then returned to letting his eyes flit over his friend's profile.

He could fake it so, so easily. But that wouldn't be playing fair, right?

His heart was racing.

He looked back to the doors again, then Jack again, then grabbed ahold of the desk and dragged himself toward Gavin by moving along it. He leaned close, pretending to read his screen over his shoulder.

"Hullo, boi," Gavin greeted Michael when his gradual lean got close enough that his chin rested on Gavin's shoulder.

"Hey, boi," he answered. "Whatcha readin'?"

"Oh. Just a bit about that crazy microphone Burnie's ordered, yeah? I figure it'd be best if someone else knows how to operate the thing."

"Mm-hmm," Michael agreed. Beyond Gus's indignant, half-joking ranting in the kitchen that Burnie was okay with spending eight grand on a "stupid microphone" but wouldn't let him order a golden fork to go with the golden Gus, he had no idea what microphone Gavin meant, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. "So, hey."

"Yeah?"

"Lindsay told me something interesting when she was in here earlier." Michael glanced back at Jack again instinctively, then turned slightly so his back was squarely to him.

"Did she?"

"Yeah."

"Well, are you planning on telling me?"

"Yeah." He gnawed at his upper lip, taking a deep breath. "She told me to pass it on."

Gavin turned to look at him, his expression first perplexed, then surprised as his meaning dawned on him. "Oh."

"Yeah, I was surprised too."

Gavin shrugged. He tried to hide it, but Michael could tell he was clearly surveying the room behind him the same way Michael had before. "I started the game at Wal-Mart last week, 's'not like this is much of a surprise," he said, lowering his voice despite their lack of company.

"Yeah- wait, you started that?"

He grinned, shrugging again. "Not much else to do at Wal-Mart at 1 in the morning, now is there?"

"Hmm. Well, can't argue with that logic."

Gavin grinned wider, expression so proud that Michael rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove.

Michael half-sighed, half-laughed, giving one more glance over his shoulder before turning back to Gavin. "Well, let's get this over with then."

Gavin turned his chair toward Michael's and pouted, looking as much like a scolded puppy as he could manage. "'Get this over with', I see how it is," he complained, struggling to make himself sound insulted in the face of his actual amusement.

Michael groaned. "Oh you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I got you boi, don't worry," he said, going back to grinning.

Michael exhaled nervously, resting his hand on the arm of Gavin's chair. "Good. Now c'mere."

Gavin leaned forward slowly, his head tilting instinctively - they'd had enough practice that the best angles were second nature by now.

Then, once their faces were close enough that he could feel his friend's breath and had watched his eyes slip shut, he hesitated. "Hey Michael?" he asked, just above a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"Are we sure Ryan's camera contraption isn't on?"

Michael sighed heavily, sitting back up and following Gavin's gaze to where the wheel of Go Pros was mounted in the middle of the room. None of the lights were blinking.

"No, dipshit. They're off. He only turns it on when we've got something to film."

"Yeah, but what if he's using it as, I don't know, security cameras or something. He did leave the room."

"You really think those things have a long enough battery to last until he gets back?"

"Well, no."

"And you really think Ryan's paranoid enough to run a security camera while he's out of the room?"

"Not paranoid, Michael. _Evil_."

"If he's actually evil, do you really think he'd leave a security camera some place we could see it?"

Gavin gasped dramatically, eyes going wide. "You're right. Who knows where he's got one hidden in here."

"Oh for Christ's sakes," Michael groaned.

"It's probably one of the figures in front of his computer, or-"

He was cut off by Michael grabbing his face with both hands and pulling him forward, pressing their lips together roughly. For several long seconds they hung there, the room almost eerily silent, their own breathing and the occasional click from Jack's mouse the only things audible over the low hum of all their computers' fans.

Then Michael tried to let him go, but Gavin reached up with one hand, grabbing Michael's arm just below his shoulder to hold him still, and even leaning into the kiss a bit himself.

As he felt Michael's grip start to soften until his palms were just resting on his cheeks, Gavin finally let go, sitting back up slowly. By the time Michael re-opened his eyes, he was greeted by the Brit's trademark cocky grin.

"Now _that_ was something worth passing on," he declared, leaning back and crossing one leg across his lap.

Michael sighed, letting his face fall into his palm and shaking his head, but he was still smiling anyway.

  
  
  
  


Meg had Lindsay pinned down to one couch, straddling her at her waist, one hand hidden suspiciously between their chests and the other supporting her weight beside Lindsay's head. The younger girl was breathless beneath her, a mess of limp joints and brief moans as Meg kissed from her lips to her collarbone and back again. Meg was none too shy about letting her teeth and tongue do most the work tonight; they'd learned their lesson the previous week that that many marks weren't going to go unnoticed around the office.

Lindsay had long since given up trying to reciprocate to any of the kisses except those to her lips, instead focusing the last of her awareness on keeping her hands on Meg's waist and back. They were instinctively, almost magnetically, drawn to slide lower, and twice now she'd caught herself squeezing her friend's ass, trying to pull her hips down against herself the way she would Michael in the same situation.

Michael and Gavin were both frozen where they sat, on the other couch and coffee table respectively. At first they'd just been watching for an opening, or for the girls to turn to them and say it was their turn, as had become the norm. But as Meg had grown more aggressive and Lindsay had just surrendered to her advances, they'd both become too entranced to even try interrupting.

In the back of his head Michael kept saying he'd stop them if it went too far, but he had no idea what too far even meant anymore. He recognized the lower groans coming out of his wife's mouth in between her shallow gasps. They were the sounds she made when he felt her up, when she was getting frustrated by there still being fabric between his hand and her breasts. There was no question in his mind where Meg's other hand was, even if he couldn't see it first hand.

Flashes of heat ran through his chest each time she moaned that way, causing his hands to clench; it was the first time he'd felt any shreds of jealousy surface over Meg touching Lindsay since that first night. It was drowned out by the flush that stained his cheeks as he watched and made sitting still uncomfortable.

In the end, the indecision left him glued to his seat and meant his eyes hadn't strayed from them since Lindsay's back first hit the couch.

Meg leaned up from Lindsay's neck, panting for breath and adjusting her arms to regain her balance. She blinked toward Gavin, eyes taking a moment to focus without her glasses.

"Hey," she greeted, smiling at him.

Gavin shifted, causing the coffee table to creak under his weight, and twisted the beer bottle he was holding in his lap. "Hey," he answered, nibbling at his lip. His eyes darted down at Lindsay, still dazed and breathing hard as she looked up at his girlfriend, then back to Meg's face, eyebrows rising as high as he could make them go.

"C'mere," Meg beckoned, sitting up further and leaning toward him. She rested one hand on his knee, forcing him to stay seated as he leaned forward to close the gap between them.

They kissed passionately for several seconds, Gavin's empty beer falling to the floor as he reached up to stroke her shoulders, then lace his fingers into her hair.

Her lips curled into a smile against his lips as she felt Lindsay's hand trail up her thigh to her side, stroking softly there. Meg reached back with her free hand, letting her nails gently trace along the back of Lindsay's wrist and arm, causing her to shiver and give her hip a squeeze.

Meg pulled back from Gavin, who all but purred as her lips slipped away. She started to lay back onto Lindsay's chest, her eyes still locked on him, almost daring him to make a move.

As she turned her attention back to Lindsay, she saw Michael out of the corner of her eye, far more transfixed than Gavin had been.

Meg pulled back up before Lindsay had a chance to kiss her again, weight still resting atop her but back arched enough that she could look Michael in the eye.

"What's the matter?" she asked, licking her lips. "You jealous?

Michael was startled upright when he realized she was addressing him. "Huh? What?" he sputtered, eyes wide with confusion, then once her words processed, "No! No."

"Not _jealous_ jealous," she corrected, giving the word an angry slant. "I meant, did you want some of this," she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

He chuckled, a bit of the daze clearing from his face. "Oh, I'll get my turn later," he assured her with a wink.

Meg rose from atop Lindsay, standing up as though to clear the way for him. Lindsay whined a little as she did, propping herself up on one elbow to turn and look at Michael expectantly.

"You sure you don't want your turn now?" Meg asked, stepping toward him.

"Um," he stammered, glancing past her at Lindsay, then back up at Meg. "I mean I guess-"

She had him pinned down to the couch before he could react, pushing the unsuspecting lad down by the chest with ease. In a flash she was above him in the same position she had been over Lindsay, with the exception of holding her hips above his more carefully.

"Holy shit," he breathed, eyes wide at the sudden proximity of his friend's face and the knowing smirk spread across it. "Um…"

He looked over at Lindsay, who had twisted onto her stomach to watch the pounce unfold. Her eyes were still dark and glassy with arousal, and her hair dishevelled, but there was no mistaking her smile and nod for anything but intrigued approval.

From there he turned to Gavin, who looked as speechless as he felt. Gavin's eyes were wide as he glanced repeatedly between the other three, licking his lips. They'd fallen so silent that he could hear Gavin's shallow panting and the way he swallowed as his eyes darted between the faces of his best friend and girlfriend.

Gavin looked at Lindsay, who shrugged at him, then back at Michael, eyes growing impossibly larger.

Finally, he exhaled hard, nodding slowly.

Michael had to wet his own lips before asking, "Are you su-"

"God yes," Gavin interrupted, then hid his face in his hands, breathing hard into them as he tried to recover from his own admission.

"Are _you_ sure," Meg said, drawing Michael's attention back to her, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Uh." Michael blinked for a moment, everything else suddenly drowned out by the sound of his pulse pounding past his ears. Was he? Should he be? Was it really any different, morally or logically, than kissing Gavin?

Was he supposed to be too busy fighting off the imagined image of Lindsay atop Gavin, the way Meg was atop him, to be able to figure out if he wanted to reach up and kiss her?

"I mean, yeah. Sure," he said, throat suddenly dry as his eyes fell on Meg's lips for what felt like the first time ever. "If I'm not cutting anybody in line?"

She laughed as she leaned down hover a half inch from him, until he could feel her breath hot on his face and her hair had fallen to frame them like a veil.

It was only then that Michael saw a flash of nervousness across her expression, just a brief hitch in her breath and falter in her eye contact. Swallowing hard, he found her arm with one hand, squeezing reassuringly near her shoulder.

Then Meg was on him, lips pressed deeply against his. There had too much adrenaline in both their systems to take anything slow; Meg's lips were still swollen from the time she'd spent kissing the others, and Michael had spent too much of the night waiting to get his lips on someone's, _anyone's_ , to care that they'd never kissed before.

When her taste reached his tongue, it was more familiar than he could have prepared himself for. There was so much of Lindsay there still, and of Gavin, but he could recognize the part that was her from all the times he'd kissed them after they'd kissed her, and something about that familiarity was more exhilarating than it should have been.

Michael's hands found their way to Meg's cheeks, holding her still so he could pull away long enough to grab a few breaths and look at her properly for a second.

"Holy shit," Michael breathed, voice shaky from adrenaline. "Meg. Holy shit."

She giggled, smile twisting almost shyly as she let her him support her face in his hands. "Yes?"

He let out a single, voiceless laugh before he pulled her back down to meet his lips again.

Across from them, Gavin exhaled hard again, leg jiggling restlessly as he stared at them, unable to tear his eyes away. "Christ," he muttered, overwhelmed.

Then Meg moaned as Michael's lips started sliding down her jaw, and Gavin had no choice but to close his eyes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling.

By the time he opened them again, Lindsay was climbing onto the couch behind Meg.

"A game, huh?"

Lindsay closed her eyes, sighing heavily as she flopped sideways on the couch and sprawled out listlessly. For a moment she just laid there, staring vacantly at the ceiling, motionless aside from breathing.

Michael landed on her almost without warning - since she hadn't been paying attention to see him coming, his shout of "INCOMING" after he'd already jumped was her only warning to brace herself. It was a well-rehearsed jump though, so him flopping across her, face on her chest, barely knocked the wind out of her.

He waited for her to stop laughing before he pulled himself up to kiss her on the cheek, smiling proudly.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked.

"Plan?"

"Do they wanna go get food."

"Oh." Lindsay blinked, glancing back down toward where her phone was now pinned between them, then back up at her husband. "Gavin's still in the shower."

"Must be nice to have a real hot water heater."

"Must be nice to not live with someone who uses it all up in one go."

"Must be nice to live with someone who doesn't intentionally flush the toilet while you're showering to shoo you out faster."

"That was _one time_."

"The same way you stealing the rest of my wings was 'one time'?"

"Excuse me. I can push you off this couch y'know."

His eyes narrowed and he smirked, his words low and deliberate. "I'd like to see you try."

Lindsay pulled her elbows up under her so she'd have force to push with, but Michael hopped up off her before she even had the chance to try. "Cheater," she called after him as he climbed up onto a stool by the kitchen.

"Hey, not my fault you weren't fast enough," he shrugged, pulling his phone out and starting to type into it. "Now let's track down some food."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this chapter is actually how this whole fic got started. Fun fact, it was originally supposed to be chapter three. Yeah. Whoops. But much like this chapter itself, this whole fic has kind of gotten away from me. This chapter felt like it took forever to write, and posting it was tedious as hell, but I had more fun with it than any other so far so I feel like it paid off. I hope everyone else feels that way too.
> 
> Congrats to this chapter on earning the fic an M rating. You're growing up, little fic, you're growing up.
> 
> As always, thanks Kayasaurus for beta-ing this and catching all those spots where I started to rephrase shit and then walked away with two words still mashed together. And more than normal, thanks to her for the screenshots that made this chapter pretty instead of a mess of italics or web generated bullshit! Not many people would be willing to spend an hour texting themselves and taking screenshots for a fanfic for the sake of authenticity, especially not the fanfic of someone they've barely known a month. You're amazing and I'm so glad I rounded you up :3


	9. Working for the Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two can be as bad as one.

The ceiling was a different color than the walls. The walls were some kind of pastel green - it looked grey this time of night, but it was definitely green - but the ceiling was still white.

Michael had never noticed that before.

Then again, before the last month, he hadn't spent a whole lot of time staring at the ceiling of Gavin's spare room in the middle of the night. For the first six months that Gavin and Meg had owned the house, Michael had only wound up sleeping in that room if he was so drunk he was passing out on the couch anyway, or so exhausted from movie filming that he'd opted to drive Gavin home and just sleep there for a few hours, since the ten extra minutes to his own house had felt like an eternity after some of the longer nights.

But now he'd slept in this bed, what, six, seven nights already this year? Not to mention the nights spent asleep on the couch, let alone the ones spent on his own couch back home instead of making it back to bed.

He was staring at the ceiling hoping to think about anything but exactly that. It wasn't working.

They'd said they were going to take weeks off from all this. That had been one of the rules. No one had said exactly how often or anything, and technically they'd taken the week before off, but that was Valentine's Day so he wasn't sure that counted. And it felt like, strung out on the adrenaline and lack of sleep from LPL the night before, they'd just spent the evening making up for that week.

It had been six weeks since the last time he'd gone a full week without kissing his best friend.

That wasn't the sort of thing any happily married man should have been contemplating with his naked wife beside him, clinging to his arm in her sleep. But there were a lot of things in his life lately that had no place in the mind of a happily married man.

Like that less than two hours ago, he'd been kissing another woman.

When he closed his eyes, the image was still there, more vividly than he knew what to do with; Meg's wide grin inches above him, cheeks squished from the way they were resting in his hands, eyes so close he could see a few eyelashes where her mascara was clumped, even though the only light was the TV's glow filtering through the curtain of her hair.

He wasn't supposed to remember that kind of detail when it came to someone elses face. Sure, he knew Lindsay's face that intimately… the flecks of her eyes, the exact shape of her lips, every faint freckle on her nose, the way one of her cheeks always creased a little more than the other when she smiled. But that was Lindsay. That was the woman he'd chosen to spend the rest of his life with. He was supposed to know those things about her.

He rolled carefully onto his side, kissing Lindsay on the forehead just to watch her smile in her sleep and snuggle further into her pillow. She was so beautiful, even in her sleep, even with her hair in the disarray of a hastily tied bun, locks that had escaped stuck to her neck and shoulders where her skin was still damp from the effort of their lovemaking. Michael knew when they woke up, she'd be even more beautiful to him, just like she had every day since before he realized he was in love with her. While he didn't believe in soulmates, he still felt that her beauty was something he felt deep inside his soul, rather than with his eyes.

He slipped his free arm over her shoulders, holding her close, letting his lips rest on her forehead and his eyes slip shut as he mentally whispered how much he loved her.

Then his heart was pounding again, causing him to squeeze his eyes closed tighter and will himself to just fall asleep already. But no, his brain wanted to show him how beautiful Lindsay had been when her face had appeared over Meg's shoulder, pinning the smaller girl down between them and kissing him with her sandwiched there. It wanted him to remember the feeling of the couch shifting under his legs as Lindsay got back onto her knees, straddling his, pulling Meg up with her, and the way her hands slid along Meg's sides and stomach to pull her back flush to her. How they'd beckoned him to sit up too, leaving them both sitting on his lap, all three sideways on the couch, Lindsay's lips finding his again over their friend's shoulder. The way Meg's face nudged in between theirs, capturing his lips again, and he'd graciously followed her kiss, more so once she grabbed onto his arms and squeezed tight to try and stifle her reactions when Lindsay began nibbling on her neck.

And then there'd been the weight of Gavin climbing onto the couch behind him, his hands finding Meg's hair to hold it out of Lindsay's way and gently let her know he was there. She'd pulled away from Michael's lips just long enough to smile at her boyfriend, making room for his legs by shifting her knees closer to Michael until she was pressed against him almost too tightly, Gavin's legs framing hers. Her stomach was pressed to his, held there by Lindsay's weight as she lavished Meg's neck, and her legs were pinned to his thighs by Lindsay and Gavin's legs, now knee to knee against each other, precariously trying to fit them all into the width of the couch.

Meg had reached around Michael, pulling Gavin's face over his shoulder somewhere between possessively and desperately, leaving Michael's lips behind with a quick nip before kissing the Brit. With their chins almost resting on his shoulder, he could hear their every gasp and moan, every little wet sound of their lips and tongues playing against each other, sometimes even felt their breath against his ear.

All any of it made Michael want to do was squeeze Lindsay to him all the harder. He brandished the knowledge that Meg was the one on his lap as a tool to help keep his hips still, even when he heard her moan softly and felt lips brush his ear what could only be intentionally. Unable to reach Lindsay's lips with the way Meg leaning up, he kissed at the older girl's collar bone instead, equal parts to silence and distract himself and to see what noises she'd make. Part of him wanted to know if he'd be able to tell the difference between hickeys he left on her and the ones the others did, and wanted at least one shot at testing it out.

He remembered pulling free from her skin to hiss out Gavin's name when his teeth found the narrow band of muscle behind his ear, remembered hearing Gavin chuckle proudly at the reaction and murmur his name back mock-innocently, "Yes, Michael?" He'd twisted around then, hand pressed to someone's leg - Meg's, probably, it had felt too thin to be Lindsay's - to hold himself at the right angle as he'd used Gavin's collar to drag him in for a kiss over his shoulder. The angle was awkward, his neck almost strained, but feeling his boi's familiar, victorious grin against his lips as he tried to make him knock it off and kiss back, that was worth it.

…"His boi" suddenly felt like a much different term, in context.

Guys. He knew when the last time he'd kissed a guy before Gavin was, more or less. Girls was a much different story; he hadn't dated much since high school and could barely remember the names of the girls he'd kissed between then and Lindsay. But he'd kissed Ray a couple times shortly after they'd been hired, mostly on accident, when they were high on the thrill of having a camera on them so often and playing up the fanservice as a result. Those had been all jokes, though. Geoff had kissed him once - while drunk, of course - but Geoff had kissed almost everyone at least once. It was practically a rite of passage of working at Rooster Teeth. There'd been someone else too, when they were drunker still than that - Chris, or maybe Miles, he suspected from the vague fragments he could still remember of that New Years - but that information was lost to time and Barb's camera, since that was what had prompted joke.

Jokes. All jokes. Which he knew this wasn't. He wasn't sure what it  _was_ , either, but he knew it  _wasn't_  a joke. You didn't make out with your best friend once a week as a joke. You didn't make out with his girlfriend as a joke. You didn't become familiar with exactly where to press your tongue to feel his pulse through his neck as a joke, or figure out how to avoid getting your lips chapped by stubble as a joke, or memorize the feeling of his fingers grappling at your shoulder when you pinned him to the couch as a joke, and you definitely didn't find yourself keenly aware of how his erection feels against the small of your back while he's making out with his girlfriend over your shoulder  _as a joke_.

But you didn't do all of that just to get your wife riled up and make her even more unable to keep her hands off you than normal, either. And while he'd stopped telling himself that lie weeks ago, Michael still hadn't found a truth to replace it with yet.

He was leaving town for a week on Wednesday, heading to LA to do some filming with FunHaus. Maybe a week of different scenery and sleeping on Adam's couch would clear his head and give him time and space to figure it out.

For right now though, his breath was coming too hot, the fire rekindled from dwelling too long on the events of the evening, and sleep now felt further than it had before. He trailed his fingers down Lindsay's spine, whispering her name in hopes of gently waking her up instead of going to hide in the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

The week went by in a blur, everyone feeling vaguely exhausted and hungover from Live the Friday before. No one got enough done, but no one really cared, either. The fact some of the FunHaus guys were still around didn't help the productivity any, but each of the departments found a way to keep them busy on different days.

Tuesday afternoon, with Lindsay off for a RWBY meeting and most the other Achievement Hunters scattered across their specialties or working their way through lunch, Meg found Michael eating alone at the picnic table outside, too focused on his phone to notice her approach.

"What's the matter, all your friends ditch you?" she teased, climbing onto the bench next to him. She tried glancing over his shoulder to see what he was reading so intently, but the bright light made it impossible to even tell what site he was on from her angle.

Michael rolled his eyes at her, returning to his home screen before turning off his phone and setting it down. "Maybe I just wanted some alone time, huh? Ever think of that?" he teased.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I interrupting on something private?"

He snorted, elbowing her gently. "Nah. Just going over my itinerary for tomorrow. By which I mean, who the hell is driving me and the rest of those clowns out to the airport and what our chances of missing the flight are."

"Oh geez, who's the lucky bastard?"

"Lindsay."

"Oh my god, seriously?"

"Burnie's the only other one with a car big enough, and I don't think I've ever seen him shirk responsibility quite that quickly before. It was like, Geoff levels."

Meg burst out laughing, barely hearing Michael when he added, "Actually no, dad works really hard, don't tell him I said that."

" _'Dad'_ ," she repeated with a snort, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. "You guys are just too much."

"What?"

"You are."

"I am what?"

" _Michael._ "

"Yeah I am, what about it?"

Meg shook her head, folding her arms on the table and letting her head drop onto them. "Nevermind."

"Fine then, be that way."

"All of you are fucking impossible," she laughed, unable to keep herself from smiling.

Once she'd finally stopped laughing and Michael stopped trying to kid, he asked what had brought her all the way outside.

"Well, I was trying to find you, actually," she admitted, looking up at him from atop her crossed arms.

"Me? Why?"

"Because you're going out of town tomorrow."

"I'm not taking enough luggage to bring souvenirs, so don't ask."

"Michael."

"Not even if you ask nicely."

"Okay," she sighed, propping her head back up, "stop channeling Gavin for five seconds because you're making me regret not just texting you."

Michael rolled his eyes, but took another bite of his lunch and nodded toward her. "Okay. What's so serious about me going out of town then."

"Can Lindsay still hang out this weekend?"

He blinked, sitting up rigid at the question. "Of course she can. Why the hell would you ask me? That's up to her."

"I'm asking you because we still have a nothing without everyone there rule."

His shoulders sunk a little as her meaning set in, and Meg nibbled at her lip, wondering if even asking was a mistake. She had nothing specific planned, and she already knew from talking to Lindsay that she was planning on spending at least one day with her non-work friends. But there was every reason to suspect it might come up, and she'd rather know now than deal with any mistakes later.

"So when you said can she hang out this weekend, you meant are you allowed to go all Charmin Man on her booty while I'm not there," Michael said after a few seconds. His voice was strained, like he was trying to force himself to be amused even though he was uncertain.

Meg twisted her lips questioningly before deciding to just play along for the moment. "Not in so many words, but yes, I might want to do some squeezing."

He stared at her another few seconds before looking off at the wall and shrugging. "That's still up to her," he said, fork to his lips again before he finished the thought.

"I'm not saying it's definitely happening. I mean, I'm not planning anything. Just so you know," she tried to assure him, frustrated by how he was clearly blowing her off, despite his own discomfort.

"We never do."

"...What?"

"We never plan anything. It always just, kind of happens."

Meg nodded slightly, watching Michael carefully. He still wasn't making eye contact, vaguely looking everywhere but in her direction. "That's true."

He shrugged.

"...Does that bother you?"

He shrugged again.

"Michael, c'mon. Do we need to have a talk about this?"

"What? No. I'm fine, don't worry about it."

She raised an eyebrow, sitting up properly finally. "Why don't I believe you?"

He looked at her again finally, eyes narrowed incredulously. "How should I know? You're the one over here making a big deal out of things. Asking  _me_  for permission to touch  _her_. Geesh. Didn't you just have to ask her for permission to touch me Saturday? I thought you knew how the ownership hierarchy worked around here."

"Oh come on, no one owns anyone around here."

" _Please_. Don't try to tell me Gavin didn't come with a how to train book and a roll of poo baggies when you got him from Geoff."

"Nah, only a collar and a couple of old toys."

They stared at each other for a moment, both having a hard time keeping a straight face, though Meg started to grin first.

"Jesus christ woman," Michael said as they both broke down laughing, dropping his fork to hide his face in his hands. "Wow."

Meg grinned back. "You're welcome."

Once he managed to stop his dumbstruck laughter, Michael got straight back to his point. "But no, seriously, I'm pretty sure Geoff still owns him. I don't wanna know what kind of an insurance policy this company has out on Gavin."

"Like they don't have one on you too?"

"Pfffft. No. Maybe during the movie filming, but everyone knows who the moneymaker is around here."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Really? Because I would."

Meg raised an eyebrow at Michael, inviting him to prove his point.

"Look, I'm not saying that out of some kind of jealousy or anything. I'm happy with my life, I'm happy with my job, I'm making more money than I ever thought possible. I'm just not going to deny that for the last three years, the recipe for success around here has mostly been, 'put Gavin in it'. That's all."

As he spoke, Meg reached over and stole his fork, trying a bite of his food and nodding appreciatively at the taste. Michael scowled at her when he noticed, but kept talking.

"This is good, where'd you get this?" she said once he was done, mouth still full.

He rolled his eyes and sighed in irritation, motioning at the label on the grocery bag.

"Nice." She set his fork back down, resting her chin back on her palm before answering. "Gavin definitely works hard, but not everyone likes him, y'know?" she explained, reaching for Michael's soda, which he pulled out of her reach quickly. "I mean, you're the one they're sending out to L.A., right?"

"Well, yeah."

"You're the first person they've sent out there that  _wasn't_  going just to hook up computers or sign paperwork."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"If what you're saying is true, don't you think they'd send Gavin?"

"Okay first of all, I've had this arguement with him like, ninety fucking times, and I still don't get why no one believes me when I say I'm fine and I don't care if he's the 'bigger star'. And second, would  _you_  trust him on a trip to some city he's never been to before?"

"Seattle. Not even three weeks ago."

"Without Dan."

Meg narrowed her eyes, unwilling to let him win. She knew Michael was kidding - he always was, almost everyone usually was - but Gavin was far more competent than people liked to give him credit for.

She was silent just long enough for Michael to sigh and slide his soda toward her. "I seriously don't get you," he sighed. "One minute you're trying to prove to me I'm better than Gav, the next you're mad because I'm agreeing with you."

She took the soda, taking a long sip of it and then sliding it back across the wooden table, all without breaking her steady stare.

Michael stared right back. "That's three times now."

Meg blinked. "Three what?" She glanced at his soda in confusion, wondering if he was referring to it somehow.

"Three in the last  _five minutes_  you've doubted I mean what I say."

"Hey, I'm just making sure."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to. I appreciate the effort, but I'm a big boy. I can handle myself, I promise," Michael assured her, voice laden with defensive sarcasm.

"I never said you couldn't."

"Then why do you keep doubting me?"

"Because your answer to 'hey I'm not planning on making out with your wife this weekend but if I did would that be chill?' is 'we never plan on anything', and I'm sorry, but to me, that sounds just a liiiiiittle bit bitter."

"I'm not bitter," he snapped, sighing harshly and looking back over at the wall.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Michael rubbed his forehead, sighing out his nose as he willed himself to calm back down. "I'm not bitter, alright? And I'm not jealous either, before we wind up down  _that_  train again. I'm just. Look, this is all pretty weird, alright? I'm not used to it yet. I'm not used to  _getting_  used to it yet."

"I don't think any of us are," Meg offered simply.

Michael chuckled. "Then who's flying the plane?"

It took Meg a second to get his reference, but she stuck her tongue out at him once she did. "I don't think any of us are." She paused for a moment, thinking, watching Michael repeatedly crinkle the side of his soda can with his thumb. "I guess we're all sharing the controller?"

He snorted, smiling just a little. "Yeah, I guess." He shook his head slowly, raising his soda to take a sip before adding, "One hell of a game, though."

Meg shrugged, checking the time on her phone. "It is. But most co-op games are."

She stood up before he had a chance to reply, though he was finally taking another bite of his lunch so she doubted he had anything at the moment. "Ashley should be back so I gotta go. Just text me, okay?" she told him, leaning over to hug him around the shoulders. "And if I don't see you again before then, have a good trip."

"Yeah, thanks. See ya," he answered, patting her arm before she let go.

 

* * *

 

The house just felt too quiet with Michael gone.

That wasn't a problem Lindsay was used to having. She  _was_  used to him being gone; between convention schedules and movie filming, she was usually alone a couple days a month. Normally she regarded it as a great time to get work done without him or the TV as a distraction, and an excuse to spend the whole afternoon and evening in bed, editing from her laptop, eating dinner as she went rather than breaking from one task to another. She loved Michael, but he was a huge distraction, even when he was working - usually unintentionally, but a distraction nonetheless.

Sleeping Wednesday night had been no problem. She'd been exhausted from having four members of FunHaus in her van for an hour. (It should have been less than thirty minutes, but really it'd just been three of them for a while, and then once they'd finally dragged Adam and Michael out of Burnie's office, everyone was hungry, and the drive thru had only let them do two orders per car so they'd had to go in instead because no one could agree on who was treating who…).

Thursday was another story. Thursday had been three hours of laying there, vacantly staring at the ceiling, interspaced with every method she could think of to knock herself out. Tea, bubble bath, alcohol, waterfall videos, and more, until she found herself on Tumblr for the fifth time around 3 AM and finally gave up on sleeping until a respectable hour. She texted Geoff that she'd be late in the morning and did a shot of Nyquil, zonking out within a few minutes.

When Lindsay woke up Friday morning, groggy from being only six hours into the dose of sleep meds, she instinctively rolled over and tried to snuggle into Michael. When she found that side of the bed cold and empty, she laid there for several minutes, listening intently for the sounds of him in the shower or cooking breakfast, wondering how long he'd been awake.

She snapped awake and upright to the sound of her snooze alarm ten minutes later, remembering in her now-lucid state that her husband was in L.A. for a week. She glanced at the clock, fully processing that she'd been due at work twenty minutes beforehand, then grumbled to herself before hitting snooze again and pulling the blankets back over her head. She needed at least another ten minutes to figure out how to handle her morning routine without Michael there.

Spending most the day in Michael's seat, jumping into a few Let's Plays and even a Hunt for a change, only made things harder. Gavin kept forgetting she was the one there, turning excitedly to share something with Michael, twice even calling her by his name, before remembering Lindsay was the one at that desk for the day.

Hearing his tone change mid-sentence each time dug at her in a way that surprised her; he didn't sound let down so much as apologetic for making the mistake. As she stared at her screen, spinning the third person view around her car and waiting for a helicopter to come pick her up, she found herself trying to remember how things had been the last time she'd taken Michael's seat for a day. Gavin had definitely stumbled over himself a few times, but each time he'd interrupted himself with a "whoops, sorry Lindsay" and continued right on with pointing out what he'd wanted to, voice still excited, no beat missed. But today…

Today he would still show her, but his tone fell each time, his excitement waning like a child told to use his inside voice. At first Lindsay was annoyed, wondering what she'd done to warrant that reaction; if anything, in recent weeks she'd been contributing to Gavin's antics more than ever before, so he had no reason to shirk away from showing her his stupidity.

Lindsay caught him looking over at her, spinning a few degrees side to side indecisively. She thought about saying something, but kept playing anyway, even though he'd gone silent.

"Hey, Lindsay," he whispered outside of microphone range, leaning toward her.

"Sup, Gav?" she answered, acting like she hadn't noticed him looking before.

He waved her closer, trying to get her into range so he could whisper properly. "You want to help me blow up Ryan's car?"

She grinned. " _Do I_?"

His face lit up, returning to the brightness she'd seen fade the first time he realized he'd accidentally called her Michael that morning.

"What's the plan?" she asked, scooting closer to him. She nodded toward his mic, silently asking if they were going to be speaking into it for recording's sake and risk Ryan hearing, or keep things on the down-low. Gavin put a finger to his lips and pointed to the screen, showing her a place to bring her character to.

When she heard him laugh a moment later, his familiar mischievous cracking squeak, she felt relief flood through her. Gavin was cheering up and it hadn't taken much.

Two minutes later, with Ryan shouting at them for undoing his hard work, Lindsay reached over to high five Gavin and then ruffle his hair behind his headset. He smiled proudly at her, then ducked as a wadded sheet of paper sailed past his head from Ryan's direction, which in turn successfully distracted him from getting stabbed in-game.

"Good show, boi," Gavin told Lindsay between balloon-squeaks of laughter.

She was busy enough laughing that it took her a minute to even notice how he'd addressed her, and by then it was only to be glad it hadn't sent him into another awkwardly apologetic fit of silence.

It was a few minutes later, when he said, "Hey, Lindsay," again, but looked  _behind_  Michael's chair in search of her first before looking to her correctly, that the pieces finally started to connect in her head.

Michael was as much of a part of Gavin's daily routine as he was hers. No one in the office would deny that for an instant. Gavin wasn't disappointed to turn around and see Lindsay, or even to see her  _instead_  of Michael; she had nothing to do with it.

Gavin was just missing him, and given how much she missed him too, she couldn't blame him.

 

* * *

 

She stayed over that night.

It was an impromptu decision, her hand on Gavin's arm as he turned around to leave at 5 before she even knew what she wanted to say.

"You guys have plans tonight?" she blurted when he made eye contact.

Lindsay was greeted by a confused stare from Gavin. She'd caught him off guard; he'd been mid-thought, trying to remember what he brought with him to work that he should take home for the weekend. He blinked, glancing back up at the clock as he processed her question, then shrugged. "No, not really. Maybe grab some grub, but I think we were just going to be home all night. What's up?"

"Cool if I come along? I'll treat," she offered.

"Ah, you don't have to do all that," he grinned, turning around to grab his backpack. "I'm sure Turney'd love it if you drive. Means she can have bevs for a change."

Lindsay sighed in relief that it had been that easy, laughing as she stood up. Mentally she'd been preparing a monologue about how quiet the house was without Michael there and that she felt like she could use the company. Maybe a line about how she still wasn't wound down from LPL. Maybe an only half-sarcastic line about how she missed their company already, even though she saw them both every day.

Definitely nothing about the previous weekend, though. Lindsay had been trying to avoid thinking about that weekend, and planned to continue avoiding it, until letting more than a second of the evening resurface in her mind stopped turning her face the same color as her hair.

Shit. It was definitely too late for that.

She turned around quickly, pushing her chair in and making sure the monitors were off, hoping Gavin hadn't noticed. "Great. I'll grab my stuff and meet you guys in the parking lot? Or just head back to your place?"

"Give me five to ask Turney?"

"Sure."

She definitely just wanted to hang out. It really was too quiet and too boring at home without Michael there, after all. And even if she was more than happy to orchestrate a repeat performance at some point, they still had their rules. Kind of. Sort of. Even if they had broken basically every one of them by now. But that had been a mass decision to fuck the rules.

Michael wasn't even in the state. Lindsay was pretty sure that made anything more than hanging out questionable, if not outright cheating, on principle.

Plus without him around there was no point in doing much of anything. The main purpose of their little game, as Meg had called it, was to add a little spice to the remainder of the evening. Sure, she could just enjoy some alone time instead (not that she'd thought about it) (okay she'd thought about it) but that just seemed… Well...

Making out with her friends to get all hot and bothered was one thing, and having sex in that state was totally worth it. Knowing they were having sex at the same time was peripheral. She was always too distracted by her own fun to think about it in detail, and while she and Meg had traded plenty of anecdotes about their sex lives, they were always careful not to make things too graphic or specific. On the other hand, actually getting herself off after making out with Meg, without Michael in the picture…

Lindsay leaned against the doorway to the build room, hoping no one still in there turned around to see her rubbing her forehead and counting out her breathing. She needed to refocus her thoughts.

 _Nothing tonight_ , she told herself. She'd talk to Michael tomorrow, maybe arrange to call him that evening if the mood struck her. Something like that. But tonight would just be good, clean fun. Dinner, bevs, and Mario Party to distract her from Michael's absence.

 

* * *

 

Lindsay overslept the next morning, waking up with less than an hour before she was supposed to meet her friends downtown. She spent half that time dashing around, trying to fit in a shower and her share of the eggs-in-a-basket Gavin had made, hoping the food would rescue her from her half-hungover state before she had to drive.

The first "ETA?" text showed up while she was brushing her teeth; she had to pick someone up on her way there, she'd almost forgotten.

"I'll be back for my crap later, 'kay?" she told Meg and Gavin as she slipped her shoes on. Her clothes from the day before were still in the spare bedroom, along with her laptop and a couple movies she'd brought along just in case, and taking the time to pack them would only make her later.

"No prob," Meg called back, reaching her arms backward over the headrest, beckoning Lindsay for a hug before she left. "Should we count you in for dinner?"

Lindsay pulled her purse over her head, leaning over the couch to give Meg an awkwardly angled hug. For a split second she leaned to kiss her goodbye, then caught herself, reeling mentally at how instinctive the action had been. Instead, she let her cheek rub against Meg's before letting go. "Eh, maybe? I dunno how late I'll be, plus I've got some leftovers I should probably eat still in the fridge at home."

"Kay-kay," Meg answered, one hand still on Lindsay's arm. "Text us on your way back?"

"Sure," Lindsay nodded, giving her wrist a quick squeeze before letting go, then reaching to ruffle Gavin's hair as she walked past. He made a face at her, making a show of fixing his still-bedheaded hair before grinning widely. She stuck her tongue out right back, laughing as she unlocked the front door. "Laters!"

Her day out was a breath of fresh air. She'd hung out with her college friends less and less since she first interned at Rooster Teeth, her schedule never quite matching up with theirs and the myriad of friends she'd made at the office taking up most of her free time. Lindsay was embarrassed to realize she hadn't seen some of them since her wedding, and made a mental note to see who else she'd been neglecting and arrange dates with them as well.

Lately they'd only seen Gavin and Meg, or Ray and Tina, or both, or any other variety of double-plus dates with their friends. Emphasis on Gavin and Meg, in no small part from the weird hours the movie had put the guys into for months. Usually they only missed each other if Gavin and Meg had gone to a party Geoff's instead, leaving her and Michael to their own devices.

Really, quiet evenings at home with just the two of them were rare these days. When they did happen it was usually because one of them wasn't feeling well, and even so it was rare that neither of them tried to get some work done during that time.

Lindsay didn't let herself dwell too long on those thoughts, focusing instead on the time with her friends.

They spent the afternoon at the theater and mall, picking up fro-yo somewhere in the middle. The sky was already getting dark by the time Lindsay tossed her bags in the trunk - she'd picked out a couple new outfits and rescued some used gamecube games she thought Kdin might be able to use for videos - and her feet were starting to hurt, so she was glad to get going. She made sure to promise her friends she'd see them again soon.

It was past 7 when she pulled back into Meg and Gavin's driveway. The front door swung open before she could even get her key out, Gavin grinning behind it and Penny rushing out to greet her with a full body wag. Lindsay laughed, bending down to pet the little dog and compliment her on her newest outfit.

"How many tacos d'you want?" came Gavin's cheerful voice from the doorway.

"Aww, don't worry about me," Lindsay answered, hugging him as she came inside. "I was just going to grab my shit and get back home."

"Too bad, we have more than enough."

She did her best to look annoyed with him, rolling her eyes and relenting when his grin didn't falter. "Fiiiine. I'll take like three, I guess?"

Meg peeked out of the kitchen, an onion in one hand and a knife in the other. "You want tomato on yours? I only diced one tomato but I've got more if you want some."

"Oh my god, at least let me get my shoes off guys," Lindsay teased, hanging her purse on the rack near the door and kicking them off on the mat. She crossed the room to the kitchen and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. "I'll cut some up myself."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but I want to help."

The two of them stared stubbornly at one another across the kitchen, both struggling not to be the first to crack a smile.

"Ah come now, no fighting or neither of you gets dessert," Gavin scolded playfully, poking Meg in the ticklish part of her side.

She squeaked, flailing, then caught herself and stomped her foot. "Gavin. I'm holding a knife."

He grinned innocently. "Well, best be careful with it then, yes?"

She turned her staring contest on him instead, reaching over to set her things down on the counter without breaking eye contact.

Gavin just kept smiling, knowing already what was coming, since he'd deliberately provoked it.

He turned and ran as Meg lunged toward him, dashing for the hallway via the "shortcut" of bounding over the couch. Meg was hot on his tail, and the last thing Lindsay saw before they disappeared around the corner was Meg jumping onto his back, Gavin squawking in a mix of alarm and amusement while Meg shouted victoriously.

Lindsay shook her head, chuckling to herself as she listened to them stumble up the stairs. It was rare for more than a few hours to pass without a play fight erupting, sometimes with her or Michael but usually between Meg and Gavin. Gavin just couldn't resist causing trouble, it was just his sense of humor, and it had only taken each of them a couple weeks to realize it was always jokes, never malice. It was nice, mostly because it meant sour moods rarely lasted long with him around, but also because there was something adorable about watching him run from and rough house with the others.

Lindsay made sure her sleeves were secure, turning to wash her hands as she heard them thump against a door overhead. For the next few minutes she made sure the beef was done cooking and the toppings were all ready, setting out a stack of plates and napkins along the way. She was familiar enough with cooking in their kitchen that the only thing she had a hard time finding along the way was enough bowls for all the toppings, so she opted to arrange them on a plate instead.

Taco bars were a staple of their Saturday movie nights, and she found herself pondering the two discs still sitting with her stuff in the bedroom. She had no plans for the next day, so she saw no harm in staying late and skipping the beers so she could drive home after watching one or both of them.

She snagged a spoonful of the beef, tasting it to decide if she wanted to track down some hot sauce too. It was barely spicy, making that a yes. She decided to give the rest of the spoonful to Penny, who was behaving herself by  _technically_  staying out of the kitchen, sitting just at the edge of the tile and wagging patiently.

Lindsay tossed the empty spoon into the sink, grabbing the hot sauce from the cupboard and putting a lid over the beef just in case either of the pets got any ideas while she was out of the room. She went upstairs to tell the others dinner was done, making the trek instead of just yelling because she wanted to fetch the movies anyway.

She could hear them before she even got to the top step.

She leaned against the wall at the top of the staircase, staring incredulously at her friends' closed bedroom door. It was clear from the moans drifting out from within the room that the wrestling match she'd seen head down the hall had escalated since. The question on Lindsay's mind was whether to call them on it or just let their tacos get cold.

Lindsay wandered into her room - the spare room, she reminded herself, Dan stayed in there almost as often as she and Michael did, and others likely did too, she had no possession over it - and plopped down on the bed. Her feet found the clothes she'd left on the floor and picked them up, dragging them into a single pile. She leaned over, grabbing the laundry and hauling it up on the bed next to the canvas grocery bag that her laptop was tucked into.

She flopped backwards, staring at the ceiling.

They were still at it.

Of course they were, thirty seconds wasn't going to change anything, but inwardly Lindsay had hoped they'd hear her moving around and learn something akin to shame. Instead they seemed louder than before, more caught up in the throes of passion. Were they always this loud, and she'd just not noticed because she was usually too busy with Michael?

Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut, dragging her feet up onto the bed so her knees were high in the air and her thighs were pressed tightly together. Her mouth kept opening to yell at them to keep it down or mind their manners, but each inhale meant for shouting only came out as a long sigh instead, each a little shakier than the last.

She didn't want to picture them, to imagine what position Gavin must have had Meg pinned in to create that combination of moans and squeaking bed frame. It was already embarrassing enough to realize that she knew they were fucking, specifically - that the volume of their moans told her neither of them could be going down on the other, since even without a shared wall between the two rooms she could hear their every gasp with no more muffling than the door graciously provided her. But she also couldn't push it completely out of her mind, especially not when she could recognize so many of the noises Meg made by now, could picture the expressions that went with them, could almost feel the dig of Meg's fingers into her shoulders...

Lindsay rolled over, exhaling hard into the blankets and balling them into her hands.

She couldn't do this. She couldn't keep listening - didn't want to keep listening, no matter how easy they made it. It was an invasion of their privacy, above and beyond what she felt was okay for a joke. But part of her mind was on autopilot now, more desperate than she should have been.

It was one thing to go a few days without sex - Lindsay was more than fine on her own in that department - but she was still used to general intimacy and physical contact throughout her days. She knew well that was contributing to the strange loneliness that had brought her to her friends' house in the first place, and contributing hard enough that their closed door alone had made her feel isolated all over again.

Lindsay growled into the bed, frustrated with herself for mopeing. She'd been separated from Michael before, had existed perfectly happily on her own before he'd entered the picture, had gotten to talk to him on Skype for half an hour the night before, and knew he'd be home Tuesday. She didn't mind the idea she'd become dependent on him, not really. Instead she was angry with herself for all the strange strains of jealousy she could feel knotting in her chest, only some of which seemed to be over them getting laid when she wasn't.

Gavin's voice rang through the hall, shouting Meg's name enthusiastically.

Lindsay winced.

…On the other hand, maybe she really was just horny.

She growled again, wishing she could melt off the bed and through the floor. Instead she rolled back over, rehearsing lines in her head and staring at the ceiling while she focused her mind again. Tacos. There were tacos downstairs. There were movies three inches from her left hand. There were friends she could give shit about banging so loudly the whole neighborhood could hear in between her and the tacos.

Yeah, her evening sounded pretty well booked.

She pushed herself upright, snatching the movies before she stood up, and cleared her throat as she wandered into the hall.

She grinned evilly as she raised her hand toward their door, suddenly feeling back to normal at the thought of teasing them.

"Yo, hurry it up in there!" Lindsay shouted as she knocked as loud as she could. She could hear startled squeaking from the other side, and had to stop herself from laughing as she continued, "Dinner's getting cold!"

"Just for that, I'm going to take twice as long!" Gavin shouted back, causing Meg to giggle hysterically.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "That's fine, more tacos for me!" she called through the door before turning to run down the stairs as loudly as possible.

By the time they finally made it downstairs, Lindsay was on her second taco, casually watching TV with her feet up on the coffee table. It took half an hour for her to stop waggling her eyebrows at them both any time they looked at her.

 

* * *

 

Lindsay was jostled awake by something touching her arm, and she glanced around slowly, confused and unsure of what time it was. The material under her told her she was on Meg and Gavin's couch, the darkness of the room told her it was still night time, the menu on the TV told her the movie was over and that she'd managed to fall asleep during another one, and the weight on her chest told her Meg had fallen asleep on top of her, though she couldn't remember when she'd gotten there.

The touch on her arm turned out to be Gavin trying to carefully pick Meg up off of her without waking either of them up. He noticed her eyes open right away and whispered an apology, glancing from her to Meg. He already had one arm looped under Meg's legs, but she was laying face down on Lindsay, so getting her into a position he could carry her in would be difficult. It would be fine from there, he could carry her just fine, he'd done it before, even up the stairs. Granted she was usually awake to hold on to him, but he felt sure he could handle it.

"It's ok," Lindsay whispered back, getting her elbows under her and carefully starting to sit up.

Gavin tried to stop her, worried she'd wake Meg, but Lindsay shooshed him. She wrapped one arm around the sleeping woman, keeping her from slumping over as she turned around, leaving Meg sitting on her lap.

Gavin picked her up from Lindsay's lap, struggling slightly since she was out cold and limp as a result. Lindsay followed him up, cautiously holding her arms under Meg until they were both sure she was settled.

As he headed for the stairs, Lindsay checked her phone. It was past 3AM; so much for any plan of heading home. Instead she turned off the movie and TV, following Gavin down the hall, turning off the lights behind them.

The stairs proved more daunting than Gavin had expected. He tried to step up the first stair, but was too unsteady with Meg's dead weight in his arms.

Lindsay barely kept herself from laughing when she found him glaring at the steps. "Give her here," she said, voice hushed and held her arms out. He glanced between her and the stairs, pouting in defeat.

"Alright," he whispered back, "but be careful."

They traded Meg between them, Gavin dashing up the stairs ahead of Lindsay to go turn on a desk lamp in their room for light. By the time he peeked back out of the room, Lindsay was already halfway up the stairs. He knew that, even asleep, Meg was no challenge for Lindsay to carry; she carried Michael all the time, and had even unexpectedly lifted Ryan by the waist one day on a bet with Geoff that Gavin had missed the terms of. Compared to that, Meg probably felt like a toddler to Lindsay.

Gavin rocked nervously on the balls of his feet while he watched her climb anyway.

He ducked back in the room once she reached the top, going to pull the covers down on Meg's side and flip over her pillow. He waved Lindsay over, patting the bed softly and stepping out of her way.

Lindsay couldn't help but smile at the care he was putting in to getting Meg to bed without waking her. She knew Gavin had a sweet side to him - she'd helped him pick out gifts for Meg before, and he'd seen how he was around Millie and his real siblings. Still, it was somewhere between endearing and confusing to see Gavin Free as a loving, thoughtful human being without any ulterior motives or anyone watching. She'd known him more than long enough to know a lot of his idiocy and jackassery were an act, and most the rest was cluelessness, but this was a tenderness she'd barely glimpsed before. Off the top of her head she could remember the adoring smile he had when Meg had erupted into excitement over them receiving the keys to their house and the time the week before when Gavin was showing Meg the video they'd made of Smee.

She would have thought longer for more, but leaning down to rest Meg into bed without waking her required her full attention. Gavin fussed with her pillow along the way, and Meg sighed sleepily when her head rested into it, snuggling down into it and curling up on herself.

Lindsay smiled to herself, giving a quiet chuckle at the preciousness of the scene. Meg was the oldest out of the four of them, but she always seemed to fall asleep first and always managed to be the cutest, awake or not. Gavin reached down to stroke her hair, pulling it out of her face gently and letting his fingers trail down her shoulder. Meg's cheek twitched into a smile, and when Lindsay looked to Gavin again, he was positively beaming.

He looked up to see Lindsay's attention and grinned at her. "I picked good, yeah?" he asked almost silently.

Lindsay laughed quietly. "Don't you mean she picked good?" she teased. Meg had practically demanded Gavin as a signing bonus when she'd first tried to work there; fortunately Gavin had liked her back, but to say he'd chosen her seemed a little backwards.

His expression changed, and it took Lindsay a second to realize it was one of excitement. "You think?" he asked, sounding earnestly surprised.

Lindsay blinked, wondering what had made him so happy. "I think what?"

"That I was a good choice," Gavin answered, face eager.

Something about that tugged at Lindsay's heart strings, making her want to reach across the bed and hug him on the spot. She was sure he didn't mean the words as the thread of self-doubt she felt from them, but sometimes she felt like it was hard to tell with Gavin.

"Of course you were, dummy," she scolded, reaching to squeeze his hand where it was resting on Meg's shoulder.

He grinned, turning his gaze away from her before biting at his lower lip.

"...Are you blushing?" she asked with a silent breath of a laugh, noticing the way his cheeks were scrunched.

"Oh, hush up," he said, looking further away from her and covering his eyes with his free hand.

Lindsay snickered, squeezing his hand again. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're a total sap."

He chuckled at that, looking back down at Meg. He sighed softly, rubbing his girlfriend's shoulder softly under Lindsay's hand. "I really do love her, you know?" he whispered.

Lindsay had followed his gaze down to Meg's smile, but looked up to study Gavin's face at his words. The tenderness she'd admired as he readied the bed had melted even further, into a softness Lindsay sincerely wondered if anyone but Meg had seen before.

She missed Michael intensely, seeing that expression and recognizing it as what she felt toward her husband. But for some reason, she felt like the proud grin Gavin wore when their eyes met again might be able to tide her over.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Lindsay watching Gavin dote on the girl sleeping between them, her own fingers occasionally tracing the lines of Meg's left hand where it lay beside Lindsay's knee. She felt like she should go, like she was intruding on something personal, but Gavin hadn't chased her out, and whenever they caught each others' gaze there was something comforting and thankful in his smile that kept her seated.

Gavin leaned down to kiss Meg on the temple, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder in the process. Lindsay shifted as he sat back up, taking that as her cue to leave.

"G'night," she mumbled toward him.

Then she met his eyes and froze, the same instinct that had struck her on her way out of the house washing over her again.

Staring at Gavin in the dim room, she was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him goodnight.

Lindsay watched as his smile faded to neutral, saw his eyes dart from hers to her mouth, watched him wet his lips, felt herself do the same. Her breathing grew shallower as she felt him leaning toward her, the distance between them shrinking from half the bed to just that of Meg's sleeping form.

Lindsay gasped, tearing her gaze away from him and back to the door. "S-sleep well," she stammered, a little louder than she meant to. She pinched her thigh with her free hand, hoping to distract and dull the sudden flood of adrenaline hitting her system.

"Yeah, you too," Gavin said back, unsteadiness apparent in his voice. He turned away, reaching to tap the light off behind him as Lindsay stood up off the bed.

The sudden shift in both weight and light must have woken Meg, because her hand was on Lindsay's arm before she had a chance to get both feet under her.

Lindsay tried to shoosh her back to sleep, settling half on, half off the bed, but Meg whined softly and held her arm tighter.

"What is it?" Lindsay asked quietly. Meg only grunted, reaching up to rub her eyes with the hand not holding Lindsay captive. The younger girl shot Gavin a distressed look, and he shrugged, laying down carefully and stroking Meg's upper arm.

"Love, it's time to sleep," he whispered, kissing her shoulder.

"I know," Meg mumbled back.

"Did you want to tell Lindsay goodnight?"

Meg yawned, rolling slightly onto her back and letting her head butt softly into Gavin's. She blinked to focus her eyes, a challenge between the darkness and not wearing her glasses, and cast Lindsay a pout. "I want Lindsay to stay."

"I am staying," Lindsay told her, managing to slide through Meg's grip until they were holding hands instead. "It's way too late, I'm gonna sleep here again tonight."

Meg sighed, closing her eyes again, her words just enough of a mix of clear and garbled that neither Gavin nor Lindsay could tell if she was half-asleep or fully lucid. "I want you to stay  _here_ ," she insisted, tugging Lindsay's hand toward her, "not alone in  _there_."

"It's okay," Lindsay told her, squeezing her hand again and trying to let go. The idea of curling up with her did sound comforting, and the hours she'd been napping on the couch with her felt like the best sleep she'd gotten all week, but she felt like she'd impeded enough already.

"It's okay," Meg repeated back at her, changing the tone to assure her that no, she should stay.

Lindsay glanced up helplessly at Gavin, eyes wide and face lost. He could only shrug in return.

"Meg," she sighed.

Meg just reached up with her other arm too, tugging harder.

Lindsay looked to Gavin again, silently begging for help. There was no way he'd be okay with her just casually sleeping in their bed, after all, and if he said no she was sure Meg would drop it.

Instead he shrugged again, saying, "Well, I'm fine with it, but be warned Meg steals the blankets."

"I do  _not_ ," Meg whined, letting go of Lindsay's arm to push Gavin back slightly. He laughed, grinning at her and stealing a kiss before they looked back to Lindsay.

"Well?" he asked.

Lindsay's eyes darted between both of her friends', their gaze trained on her in the dark of the bedroom. Meg was smiling, while Gavin's expression was half-hidden behind her and difficult to read, but his words and tone had been genuinely inviting, not reluctant agreement.

Cuddling wasn't against the rules. ( _Were_  there even rules anymore?) Cuddling while they slept had been done countless times by now, usually by accident; she'd yet to share a bed with either of them, but it was honestly less cramped and intimate than being piled together on a couch. She tried to imagine how Michael would react if he were there instead; he'd probably tell Gavin it was his loss then and climb in, maybe making a joke about how he was going to wake him up in the morning. No matter how many times she played through his version of things, he never said no, and never hesitated for more than a second.

And if she was honest with herself, the only thing holding her back for even a second was the worry that it would somehow dishonor him.

In retrospect, that seemed hilariously naive.

"Well," she said, standing up, "at least let me get my PJs on. I hate sleeping in tights."

Meg cheered before pulling the blanket over her head, burrowing under it and sighing contently. Gavin sat up and clicked the light back on. "I might as well do the same, then."

She took her time getting changed, brushing her teeth and pulling her hair up along the way. By the time Lindsay pushed the door back open, her heart was pounding, her mind hard at work smothering any thoughts of kissing the others the moment they flared up.

The lights were already back off, but she could still make out Gavin and Meg's silhouettes in the stripes of streetlight coming in through the blinds. They'd left nearly half the bed open for her - though maybe there was just always that much room to spare, by virtue of how skinny they both were, especially in comparison to their king size bed - and she held her breath as she sat back down on it and pulled her legs under the covers.

Meg's arm wrapped around her as she laid down, making Lindsay's heart skip a beat before it finally stopped racing. "You're warm," Meg murmured against her, amusement apparent in her voice as she nuzzled her face into Lindsay's shoulder.

"Thanks. I do my best," Lindsay answered.

She heard Gavin chuckle behind Meg. She could feel his hand slide in between her and Meg, trying to hold her around the waist, leaving the other side of his hand pressed to Lindsay's stomach. He pulled it back a moment, reaching to let it rest over Lindsay's waist instead, leaving his arm stretched fully. She heard him sigh then, apparently deciding on a compromise, pulling it back again so his hand was resting just above her elbow, most of his arm along Meg's side.

Lindsay smiled, letting out a single laugh at his confused groping. Before she could follow suit to find a place for her own arms, Meg shifted between them.

"Good night," she said, kissing Lindsay on the nose and then rolling over before she had a chance to react.

"Heyyy," Lindsay complained jokingly, then resettled her arms, one around Meg's waist, the other tucked under her own jaw, careful not to jam her elbow into Meg's back.

They exchanged another round of goodnights, fidgeting for a few minutes until everyone's limbs were comfortable, Gavin and Meg stealing kisses and Lindsay settling her face into the back of Meg's neck.

The last thing Lindsay remembered thinking before sleep overtook her was that the space still open behind her was probably just the right size for Michael.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, guys. I try to keep things around the 10 day mark, but this fic got out of control and this last week was a mess. Things should calm down once April hits though, so next chapter might still be a bit slow but then things should pick back up.
> 
> As usual, thanks to Kayasaurus for betaing and S-dizzle for "No seriously do it"-ing
> 
> Bonus factoid of the night in stupid convo form:
> 
> [8:31:47 PM] Me: Okay, I think I'll leave it like that instead of fluffing it up  
> [8:35:10 PM] Me: god  
> [8:35:23 PM] Me: to think there was a point in this fic's evolution where the sex was supposed to come before the feels  
> [8:35:30 PM] Haterail: Yep.  
> [8:35:33 PM] Me: yep  
> [8:35:37 PM] Haterail: But only because you didn't realize.  
> [8:35:40 PM] Haterail: _You're_ writing this.  
>  [8:35:41 PM] Me: yeah.  
> [8:35:46 PM] Haterail: That was never a possibility.  
> [8:37:02 PM] Me: oh fuck you.  
> [8:38:10 PM] Haterail: It's true.  
> [8:38:24 PM] Me: I know, but still.  
> [8:38:33 PM] Me: ♠


	10. Lucid Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleeping in your own bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sorry this took so long. Homestuck came back.  
> 2\. Why hello there Mature rating, glad you could join us again.  
> 3\. Hurray for 100 comments!!!! (even if half them are me replying, lol)

Gavin wasn't sure how he'd managed to be the first one awake. He'd stayed awake through the whole movie the night before, long after Lindsay had toppled over asleep and a drowsy-eyed Meg had crawled off him to snuggle into her. He was fairly sure he'd been the last one awake as well, still nervously trying to keep track of his hands even after Meg had started drooling on his arm and Lindsay had started to snore behind her.

Now it was morning and the room was dimly lit - the sort of soft light that could have meant it was barely past sunrise, or that it was cloudy. Gavin's back was toward both the alarm clock (well, the iPad and docking speaker they used as one) and the window, so he wasn't sure which. He was sure he didn't care, either.

At some point in the night, the girls had shifted, leaving Lindsay's arm outstretched under both his and Meg's heads and Meg turned to face her again, their foreheads pressed together in their sleep. That left her back pressed against Gavin. Firmly against him. Which was more than a little distracting, since that was the first thing he'd been aware of upon waking.

They were no strangers to waking each other up creatively in the name of getting in some early morning sex, either to squeeze it in before showers and work or to enjoy falling back asleep again after on their days off.

So when Gavin started placing soft kisses on his girlfriend's shoulder and grinding his hips to her, the only unusual part was having Lindsay literally within arm's reach. The way Gavin saw it, they'd simply duck off to the shower or another room as soon as Meg woke up, leaving Lindsay none the wiser. The idea of her noticing was nerve-wracking, but he'd be lying if it wasn't oddly exciting as well. Adrenaline shot through him each time Lindsay stirred even slightly, the arm not trapped beneath him reaching up to push stray hairs out of her face, then rub her eyes, before settling back down tucked between Meg and herself. It would be easy for him to stop at a moment's notice, to pretend he wasn't even awake or at least that his attention to Meg was entirely innocent, but the entire time he was letting his lips and breath dance along Meg's skin, his eyes were wide open and staring past her to Lindsay.

His fingers ghosted up Meg's side, starting at her thigh and working their way to where her elbow rested, then back down. When he finally heard a low gasp escape her lips, his hand stilled, settling on her hip. Gavin squeezed gently, holding her still as he emphasized his next grind against her. Another soft sound escaped her, and he felt her feet twitch where his leg was trapped between her ankles. He was getting through to her.

He let his lips press more deliberately to her skin, sliding wetly up to just behind her ear and whispering her name so quietly he was barely sure he had. Meg's next sound was more of a whimper, the arm resting on Lindsay's side rising to find his arm instinctively. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, squeezing it. This time when Gavin whispered her name, she gasped again, hips rocking back toward him.

"Good morning," he breathed against her neck, letting his teeth rake her skin. His thumb played at the waistband of her pajama shorts, causing Meg to barely contain a giggle.

"Shhhh," she answered. He could hear her lick her lips as she arched her back against him, and when he glanced over her shoulder again, she'd pressed her forehead back to Lindsay's.

To his surprise, she let go of his wrist, reaching over to stroke Lindsay's arm instead, rubbing her bicep firmly with her thumb. "Meg?" he whispered, confused.

She only giggled, this time her volume uncontained.

He wasn't prepared for her to press forward and plant her lips onto their sleeping friend's.

He was even less prepared for Lindsay's eyes to blink open and, after the initial confusion filtered out, for her to kiss Meg back.

The next few minutes were a blur. Before Gavin knew it, Meg's shirt was bunched below her armpits, Lindsay's free hand kneading her breast without caution or apology, the one trapped under their heads combing at his hair. Meg was still grinding back against Gavin, her hand holding his tightly to her hip. Her lips were mostly preoccupied with Lindsay's, though occasionally she would turn her head to kiss him instead.

His hand slid on up his girlfriend until he was massaging her other breast, making her gasps and groans of enjoyment come louder. Lindsay's hand slipped away, leaving him to distantly wonder what she was up to, though he was mostly too preoccupied to care. Then her arm reached across them both, grabbing Gavin by the ass and pressing them all firmly together.

Everything felt like it was moving too fast, like maybe he should slow down and question the fact he was now grinding his girlfriend under Lindsay's rather hands-on encouragement. But it felt too good to stop, and in fact he only wanted more, his mind swimming with images of pinning them both down and fucking Meg atop Lindsay while the younger girl suckled her breasts. His hand moved from Meg's chest, the back of his fingers brushing against Lindsay's instead. Gavin heard her chuckle and the tunnel surrounding his vision only narrowed further, twisting his hand to grope at Lindsay's breast instead, groaning victoriously into Meg's mouth when he heard Lindsay moan at the motion. His hand started to inch lower and-

Gavin jolted awake, breathing hard. He propped himself up on one arm and surveyed the room, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes.

It was past 10 AM, bright sunlight filtering in through the blinds and warming the house enough that he could hear the vents running already. Lindsay had rolled over at some point in the night and was asleep on her stomach, one arm hanging off the opposite side of the bed. Meg was between them, closer to him, stirring slightly from his sudden movement but apparently still asleep.

He'd been dreaming.

And what a dream.

Gavin rubbed at his eyes, sighing to himself before laying back down. It wasn't the first dream of the sort he'd had, but it was far more vivid than any of the others, which were more like vague clipshows of things that had already happened. He could still feel Lindsay's skin at his fingers, the grip of her hands on him, and it made him nervous to shut his eyes again.

He was pretty sure he was too hard to get back to sleep anyway.

He looked back over at Meg, still fast asleep, and couldn't help but smile at her sleepy grin. Gavin wasn't sure what had possessed her to drag Lindsay into bed with them the night before, but he honestly hadn't minded at the time. He could tell Lindsay had been lonely all week - an odd emotion out of her, since normally she seemed unphased by Michael's trips out of town - and given the number of times they'd all slept on the couch together, it hardly seemed like a trespass to let her cuddle with them.

But now his stomach was doing weird tumbles at the knowledge Lindsay was just behind his girlfriend, and it was clear leaving the bed would be easier than trying to figure out what emotion was causing it.

Gavin sat back up carefully, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed as quietly as possible. He leaned back to press a kiss to the back of Meg's hand before he stood up, a habit he'd gotten into doing since most mornings he was awake before her and preferred to let the alarm do the work. Picking up his pillow, he headed downstairs, Penny appearing from under the bed and darting down the steps ahead of him.

He threw his pillow on the larger of their couches, sighing heavily. He entertained the idea of just getting a wank in before the girls woke up, since that seemed like the easier solution, but kept finding Lindsay's eyes in front of him any time he closed his. Enduring a few hours of blue balls until their friend left and he could pounce Meg seemed like a better plan than risking indulging the lingering thoughts of Lindsay. So he spent a few minutes doing anything he could think of to distract him. He let Penny out, he fed both her and Smee, he got the dishes from the living room, he even cleaned the litter box as he could think of no greater boner killer than cat poo.

Eventually he felt like the storm had subsided and collapsed onto the couch.

He wondered if the girls were awake yet.

He wondered if one of them was already awake and he'd hear them head to the shower in a few minutes, and they'd carry on their day like nothing had happened, as plain and innocent as the last few had gone.

Or maybe they'd both wake up around the same time, and, finding themselves alone in bed, decide to take advantage of the privacy… Lindsay was probably desperate for affection by now. She was a very physical person, he'd known her more than long enough to know that, and with Michael gone the last five days she'd been slowly getting clingier to both Meg and himself.

Gavin could remember what things had been like when he and Meg first started dating, long distance, and how much it would suck each time to go back to having no one to cuddle or kiss, even before they were on sexual terms. Lindsay was probably feeling the same way. She and Meg had kissed once or twice on her first night over, but he'd seen nothing since. He'd honestly been surprised they hadn't kissed more,since Meg had told him outright that she'd gotten Michael's permission. What if Lindsay just couldn't help herself anymore, if she begged Meg to touch her before she went crazy from the loneliness (hadn't there been nights where, under alcohol's heavy influence, he'd entertained similar thoughts toward others?)

Sometimes, Meg liked to whisper to him the things she thought it would be fun to do to Lindsay. Those times were always mid-fuck and usually right after they'd all been making out, when he could still feel the trails of Michael's teeth on his neck. They were all theory, he knew that, he knew it was part of the game, part of the contest they'd fallen into where they tried to rile each other up more, pushing to see who would crack first. Just the weekend before, Meg's lips had been pressed to his ear, purring about fingering Lindsay, telling him how she bet he'd love to fuck her while she did. He was learning to quip back about Michael, though his imagination didn't seem to run as deep as hers. With Meg's prompting, it was a wonder Gavin hadn't had dreams about Lindsay before, now that he thought about it.

What if Meg was upstairs right now, acting out one of those fantasies? Would she actually? She'd acted on her rogue, sudden suggestion that she might try kissing Michael the previous weekend, who knew if or when she and Lindsay would-

He really needed to get back to sleep.

But when he closed his eyes, there was Lindsay's face, inches away, just on the other side of Meg's shoulder, her smirk looking way too inviting and her eyes filled with fire and challenge. Gavin could feel her leaning toward him and tried to meet her...

"Arrrrgh!"

Gavin rolled over, shoving his face into the crevice of the couch and covering his head with his pillow.

Michael he could handle wanting to kiss. He was always so fun to tease, his reactions to everything were always so intense, and bringing those responses out was one of his favorite things. Finding out those traits carried over into kissing made it impossible for Gavin to resist getting his hands and lips all over Michael every chance he could. In a way it had been inevitable; he'd already known that climbing all over Michael got a rise out of him, so now that he was fine with such invasions of personal space, the ante had to be upped a few notches. Yes, it lead to him sometimes being tempted to kiss Michael or egg him into kissing first at inopportune times, but scaring him into thinking they might get caught was part of the fun. Most of the company already were half-convinced the two of them were fucking anyway, so even if they did get caught everyone would just call it a prank. So yeah, he could handle wanting to kiss Michael.

But ever since watching him kiss Meg, the temptation to have a turn with Lindsay had slammed him upside the head and held on for dear life.

It wasn't like he'd never thought about it before. He'd managed not to much since she got serious with Michael, but it was hard not to, with what a constant in his life she was. Honestly, he'd had almost the same problem with Griffon. It was hard to ignore a woman with such a commanding presence, much less one who put their hands on him all the time, and whose sexual endeavours were far from secret thanks to the marks she left on her husband. Except that in Griffon's case, she'd known damn well what effect she had on him and had used it against him. Well, used it against Geoff more so, but that was just the way the Ramseys worked.

Despite all the teasing, Griffon had been off limits (not that she'd ever been remotely serious anyway). So was Lindsay; he didn't dare let himself think about kissing the wife of one of his best mates, even if it was the wives themselves he was more scared of at the end of the day. But with Griffon, things had been easy to ignore, no more than boyish fantasies he grew out of as familiarity set in and she and Geoff became his extended family. With Lindsay, those flashes of lust had only grown more frequent since they'd all begun their little game, especially since the day Lindsay had very nearly kissed him months before…

He rolled back over, feeling dizzy from the stale air in the couch's corner.

 _Months_. It had been  _months_  since that third night, when he'd urged Meg out of their friends' house in a hurry out of some sudden fear that otherwise, they might end the evening having an orgy on the Jones' bed. And now he'd woken up from a dream of very nearly that after spending the night sleeping in the same bed as someone who he was most definitely not in a relationship with. Granted, the way Lindsay had wound up in their bed had been rather tame by recent standards, but the way he'd felt when he looked at her in the dream - hell, the way he'd felt when he looked at her the night before! That was a whole different animal, a whole other problem. Wanting to kiss her because it sounded hot was almost -  _almost_  - understandable. But wanting to just kiss her goodnight? And it wasn't even like he could deny that was what had happened; they had both delayed far too long after saying goodnight, Lindsay had been mere inches away before she broke off eye contact. He would have done it, had she not stopped. But what then?

He closed his eyes again, dragging the pillow back over his head. In his mind, he followed that lean forward until he felt Lindsay's lips brush across his, felt her hand rest on his shoulder to steady herself as they leaned closer still, felt his own hand rise to brush through her hair as the chaste kiss goodnight evolved into something deeper.

Gavin grumbled, rolling over yet again and squeezing his eyes shut tighter.

No use in worrying about what hadn't happened. It might come up again, but he'd deal with it at that point in time. Otherwise, it was just a useless hypothetical, and not the fun kind.

In the meantime it was still ten in the damned morning on a Sunday and there was just no point in being awake unless he was going to make them all some breakfast, and he was pretty sure they were out of eggs. He was going to get back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Lindsay tip-toed down the steps, bag slung over her shoulder, still in her pajamas. When she'd woken up, Meg was still asleep, but Gavin was already missing and she had no idea where he might have wandered off to. The bathroom door was open, the house didn't smell like breakfast, she couldn't hear the TV, and Penny had run in to greet her, which meant he wasn't out walking her. In her mind, that only left working on his computer with headphones in.

She had gathered her stuff and crossed her fingers, hoping that was indeed where he was and what he was up to, because it meant she could get to the front door without having to exchange any awkward goodbyes. And awkward they would be, because she had definitely woken up from a dream where he'd spent most the time with his head buried between her legs, held there by encouraging pets from a very naked Meg, and looking either of them in the eye after that sounded like the worst possible conclusion to an otherwise good weekend.

So when Lindsay went to put her shoes on at the door, only to hear him call her name behind her, her breath hitched and her face turned the brightest of reds.

"Lindsay?"

She took a second to steel herself, putting on an overconfident smirk before turning around. "Hey."

"You leaving?"

Gavin's head was peeking over the back of the couch, and while she couldn't see anything below his eyes, he still looked a bit disappointed.

"Yeah… I've gotta get some stuff done before work tomorrow. I haven't been home since Thursday," she shrugged.

"You could at least say goodbye," he teased.

She laughed, shaking her head and walking over to stand just behind the couch. "Fine. Bye. See you tomorrow. That good enough for you?"

"Well it's better than ducking out in secret like a one off."

Lindsay chuckled again, reaching out to muss his hair as punishment.

He grinned up at her, eyes full of mischief and pride, head tilted back by her gentle grip on his hair, and she froze. Her expression fell - not to anything angry or upset, just too overwhelmed to keep smiling as her brain helpfully pointed out that he looked now exactly as he had in her dream not even an hour before, except instead of the back of the couch he'd been hidden behind her body.

It was everything she could do to let go carefully instead of reeling back, her throat suddenly dry and eye contact impossible. It was just as well, as Gavin suddenly seemed to be in such a hurry to lay back down that he didn't even bother straightening out his pillow from where it had slipped to behind his shoulders.

"What- what're you doing out here? You sleeping on the couch?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"Ah. Um." Gavin looked around, slipping down the sofa further until his head was on the pillow properly. "Penny wanted out. And, well, I thought it best to not wake either of you, so I was trying to get back to sleep here."

"I see."

Lindsay stood in silence for a moment, then stretched, turning back toward the door. "Well, since I'm heading home you can probably go climb back in the other side. You two have fun," she said, clicking her tongue.

"Alright."

She unlocked the door and opened it, reaching for the screen when Gavin spoke again.

"Say, Lindsay?"

"...Yeah?"

He was quiet for a moment before answering. "You're doing more vids with us tomorrow, yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure I am, why?"

"Ah, no reason. Just that Friday was a lot of fun, and I was hoping we could do some more."

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's up to Geoff, but I'm all for it."

"Okay."

"...Anything else?"

"What? Ah, nah, that was it."

Lindsay laughed, hitching her bag up her shoulder. "Alright. Tell Meg goodbye for me, ok?"

"Sure."

She almost had the door shut when she heard him call for her again, and she only opened it far enough for her head to fit.

"Hey, Lindsay."

"Yes, Gavin?"

He blinked, looking around in confusion like he forgot he'd spoken or at least hadn't expected her to hear. "This weekend was pretty alright too."

"'Pretty alright'?"

"Well, I mean that it was nice to have you over."

Lindsay smiled, rolling her eyes, then suddenly felt her throat tighten at the thought of trying to respond that she'd appreciated being over. She really had enjoyed the last few days, but there was something overwhelming about processing it.

She forced a laugh and told him, "Yeah yeah, see you at work tomorrow," closing the door before he had a chance to respond again.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay collapsed onto her own bed, shoes still on, her bag, laptop and all, forgotten by the table near the door where she kept her keys. The mattress bounced heavily under her, squeaking loudly and reminding her exactly how much older and less comfortable this bed was than even Meg's spare, let alone their actual bed.

But she wasn't going to think about that right now. She was going to think about literally anything but her friends right now, because she'd done virtually nothing but think about them for days now and it was starting to fuck with her head.

Michael. She should text Michael. Maybe call him, if he was free.

She rolled back off the bed, fetching her phone from her bag and sitting on the arm of the couch. She let herself flop backward, legs still hanging over the arm, before starting to message Michael.

She made him tell her what was going on in LA, asked him about the members of FunHaus since she'd only spent an hour or two with most of them, until they'd spent half an hour typing at each other.

  


 

Lindsay stared hard at her screen and blew out a long breath. The heat she'd been trying to ignore since waking up hit her again, and hit her hard.

Two of the three times they'd called each other since he left had carried ulterior motives, and she suddenly hoped this one would be no different. Friday night, despite (or perhaps, in retrospect, because of) resisting the urge to pull Meg onto her lap during Mario Party, she'd been riled up by the time she'd climbed into bed and called Michael. It hadn't taken long for their teasing "I miss you"s to devolve into a round of phone sex, Lindsay's head pulled under the covers for fear of the others hearing her, even after her breath had heated the air well past the point of comfort.

But this was mid-morning on a Sunday, when the owner of the apartment Michael was a guest in could wake up and walk into the living room at any moment. There was no way he wanted anything but to hear her voice, and she knew in her heart that hearing his would be an enormous comfort.

Lindsay drafted several responses before giving up and just dialing him.

"Hey," he said a bit too hastily, having picked up on the first ring.

"Missed me that bad, did we?"

"Pffffft nah. I just forgot my fucking phone wasn't on silent. Shit scared the hell out of me."

"Serves you right."

"What? Why."

"No self-respecting human being should be awake at this hour on a Sunday."

"Hey, you texted me first."

"And you were already awake."

"So my body didn't adjust to LA time. Whatever."

"Uh-huh."

They kept talking, Michael catching her up on the fun he'd had in LA. Lindsay listened eagerly, but kept finding her responses too short, parts of her too distracted to react properly or process what he was saying for more than a few seconds after he'd said it.

There was a lull in their conversation, both falling into silence, Lindsay suddenly aware of how loudly she was breathing and tilting her phone away from her mouth out of fear Michael would hear.

"Babe? You alright?" he asked once she'd been quiet too long.

She opened her mouth to just answer with a "yeah", then gave a mental "fuck it".

"Is Adam awake yet?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

There was a lilt to his voice that said he could guess why, but wasn't going to assume just in case.

Lindsay licked her lips, squeezing the phone tighter. "I had one hell of a dream last night," she told him, her voice nearly hoarse as her throat went dry.

"Oh?" he encouraged.

She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him every detail, the way it had felt to have two mouths on her breasts, the unexpected thrill of feeling Gavin's slender fingers be the ones to slide her panties down, the way Meg had subtly commanded them both the whole way and how right that had seemed. But the vividness had - thankfully - already started to fade, drowned out by the blaring of her stereo the whole drive home and the familiar cheerfulness of her husband's voice.

Plus, she thought admitting to sexual dreams about their friends was something she probably shouldn't do over the phone.

"...I miss you so goddamn much Michael. If you don't have time I understand, but-" she whimpered, eyes shutting tight as her mind added him breathing against the shell of her ear to the dream she'd had the night before.

Michael chuckled knowingly. "I'll hide out in the bathroom again," he said, "just hang on."

Lindsay wasted no time throwing the phone onto speaker and stripping while she heard the door shut and the shower turn on on the other end of the line. It was a useful noise covering technique they'd both employed when sharing hotel rooms - occasionally ones they were both physically in - and while she knew Michael would have to keep it down, just knowing he was there and listening gave her something to focus on.

She needed it. It had already gotten harder over the months to divorce the feeling of Meg's lips and skin from her sex life, as their "game" as they still called it had become a staple of foreplay. But until they'd recently shirked their rule against going below the shoulders, the idea of actually having sex with Meg hadn't crossed her mind, and when it had she'd always had Michael's touch to push it back.

She had no idea if his voice alone would be enough to overshadow things now that Gavin had fallen into the mix.

She was trying hard to ignore the fact she might not want it to.

Their idea of phone sex was simple; no role playing, no explicit detail of what they were doing, just the raw sounds of their pleasure and words of encouragement. She was already slick from the course of the morning, her nerves already on edge and so sensitive to the touch she regretted not leaving her panties on to serve as a buffer. Lindsay cursed into the air, back arching instinctively in search of her partner's body atop hers, leaving her to grind against her palm and bite the back of her other hand until she got into a rhythm.

In person, Michael was unbelievably vocal, full of boundless affection and appreciation for her. It was usually the same over the phone, but this morning he was quiet, his voice a low groan to avoid detection, his breathing hitched and irregular as he held it to hear her over the roar of the water beside him. Lindsay tried to picture him, sitting on the floor of the bathroom, back against the sink's cabinets, one hand clutching the phone to his ear while he stroked himself with the other. She imagined being able to climb atop him, to throw the phone aside and kiss him, using the counter for leverage as she rode him. His face would be buried against her breasts - that was just the way he liked it, and watching his enthusiasm was often hotter than the actual sensation.

"Lindsay." His voice rose from the phone's speaker, which was resting on her chest to keep both her hands free. "Lindsay. Love. Oh, oh fuck," he cursed.

"Michael," she whined back. She felt so close already, but at the same time, there was so much tension built up inside her it felt at once like cumming would be impossible and like there was no way once would be enough. She wished desperately that she'd thought to bring a toy with her  and considered slipping off the bed to pull one from the box beneath the bed so she had something to actually fuck herself with, but the idea of stopping for even that long sounded like torture after how many times she'd hesitated already.

"Christ, babe. I can't wait for Tuesday. God, Lindsay, let me hear you. Please." His tone was almost begging. It almost always was when he got close and he knew hearing the right noises from her would push him over the edge.

Lindsay whimpered, enamored as ever by his pleading but not sure if she was close enough to make it just yet. She needed more pressure at her hips, needed the lips on her neck that kept ghosting through her imagination, needed to feel his hands tight on her thighs, pressing down toward the bed to fold her in half until her stomach nearly hurt from trying to still rock against him with only her abs and shoulders as leverage.

With a heavy sigh she rolled over, shoving the pillows aside and placing the phone beside her face. Her hands snaked back under her hips.

She groaned so hard at the feel of her fingers against her clit now that she had the pressure of her body baring down against her hands instead of vice versa that she had to bury her face in the mattress.

She heard Michael curse again from the other side of the line, voice barely above a whisper, the pitch of the continuous moan that followed fluctuating in time with his hurried stroking.

Lindsay slipped one hand free again, digging her fingers into the sheets as she instinctively tried to rub herself in time to his noises. It was her turn to hold her breath repeatedly, but it wasn't to listen. Instead, it was to brace herself better to try and rush herself. She knew she was taking longer than normal, that normally desperation left her to cum multiple times before Michael could while they were on the phone like this, that by now he was probably holding out for her. She hated knowing that since it only made things that much more difficult.

She felt Meg at the edge of her imagined scenario of fucking on the bathroom floor, and, in search of any encouragement she could find (Michael was practically chanting her name,  _why was that not enough?_ ) she didn't push her away. She reached out for her instead, still clutching the counter with one hand as the other traced the path from Meg's ribs to her hip bone, her eyes fixed on Meg's face to drink in her reactions as she grabbed her ass firmly and pulled her toward them.

Lindsay gasped for breath then pushed her face into the mattress again, unable to keep herself from mumbling Meg's name as she imagined leaning to kiss her, her husband's grip tight on her hips and driving her down onto him all the while. She came back up for air once more and shouted his name instead, finally feeling herself cresting, knowing it would only be a few more seconds until-

She heard Michael's voice hitch beside her, a pair of stuttered groans fading into a satisfied hum that was probably too loud given where he was, but that thought didn't get a chance to process before Lindsay felt the proverbial rubber band snap and relief flood over her, her vision going red and her teeth digging into her lip.

The feeling of a sudden heat, the specific heat and slight stickiness of bare skin, pressing against her back in her daydream and lithe hands sliding up her chest to lean her back against that heat -  _that_  had time to process, though not until her hips began to still.

She whimpered Michael's name to him, heard him whisper hers back and blow a kiss into the phone. Lindsay laid there panting, listening to Michael's hard breaths from the other end of the line, staring into space as she pictured the blissful look on his face, the grin he always wore and the way his curls would stick to the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Most the tension in her stomach was gone, and the loneliness staved off enough that she was sure she could last until he got home now.

But she was having a hard time properly enjoying the afterglow with the contradictory emotion rolling around in her chest of feeling guilty over  _not_  feeling guilty that she might  _want_  Gavin after all.

"I hear Adam's alarm," Michael breathed, snapping her out of her daze. "You feel better now?"

She did. Genuinely. She told him as much, though she naturally left out the parts about wanting another round and being scared to actually try it because she didn't know what other thoughts were going to float up from her subconscious.

"Love you, Linds," he whispered, blowing another kiss.

"Love you too."

"I'll call you before my flight Tuesday, okay?"

"Yeah. Talk to you then. See you then."

"Go back to sleep, you sound worn out now."

She managed a laugh at that. "Gee, I wonder why."

"Don't ask me, why the fuck would I know?"

She kissed toward the receiver before mumbling that he should go take a shower for real, then fumbled for her charger once he'd hung up.

She had work to do, but Michael was right. She was worn out. Sleep sounded amazing.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay got to work on Monday morning with almost nothing done. Every time she'd tried to concentrate the whole of Sunday afternoon, her mind would wander; sometimes just to what time she needed to head to the airport Tuesday or what she wanted to pick up at the store that week, but mostly, to the night before.

To waking up with Meg having fallen asleep on her during the movie. The way Meg had carefully made room for her in the bed.

The way Gavin had looked when he'd gazed up from his sleeping girlfriend and their eyes had met, his smile softer than she'd ever known it and his eyes more welcoming than she thought she'd ever associate with one Gavin Free.

In that second he'd felt intensely familiar, above and beyond the friendship they'd shared for years. Lindsay had no idea what that meant, and, given the concrete block of emotion toward Meg that she was still pretending hadn't settled in her rib cage the previous month, she really didn't want to figure it out.

Once again she drowned out her worries by turning the van's stereo up until nearby cars were staring at stoplights.

She beat Meg and Gavin (and, honestly, half the other employees) to the office, leaving her the only one in the build room for the time being. She paced in and out a few times, turning on Michael's computer and asking Geoff what she should load to join in on. Most everything on the whiteboard were "Trivia Tuesday" type games that would be played off Ryan or Jack's console, so she didn't bother turning on any of the recording software.

She was loading up GTA  _just in case_  anyway when Gavin showed up, dropping his bag beside his chair and then perching on one knee on it. "Morning!" he cheered at her, causing her to laugh and greet him back. He reached to turn on his computer only to realize the light was still on, so when he switched on the monitor, it was clear he'd not bothered shutting it down on Friday.

He made a face and a deflating noise at her, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed, then hit restart and turned the monitor off before shoving off the desk to roll in his chair over to greet the Gents.

Perfectly normal, every day, obnoxious as hell Gavin.

Lindsay watched him from the corner of her eye as he wandered around the room, bugging everyone in turn and having to readjust in his chair repeatedly to scoot around consistently. Geoff answered his phone at some point, leaving him to swat Gavin away as he tried repeatedly to tickle or depants his distracted boss.

"Would you get him off of me," Geoff whispered harshly toward Lindsay, one hand covering the receiver.

"Why me?" she mouthed back.

Geoff sighed, pulling the phone completely away from his face. "You're substitute Michael. You have custody of this pain in the ass when he's not here."

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and settling back in her chair as she pondered what she should threaten to charge Geoff. On one hand, she thought it was hilarious that ever since Gavin had moved out, Geoff had started referring to him as their problem. On the other, even without a camera to impress, she wasn't about to take being called "substitute Michael" sitting down.

Geoff took her not moving as a no and went back to talking on the phone, wedging a foot under Gavin's wheels when he started up again. "Sorry about that. Yeah, of course it's Gavin," was all she caught of the conversation before Gavin tried to scoot forward over Geoff's foot and started to tip over instead. He screamed before catching himself on Jack's chair, managing to right himself at the cost of getting an exasperated sigh from the chair's owner.

Lindsay got up and grabbed the back of Gavin's chair, spinning him around and pushing him back toward his desk. "You owe me," she mouthed toward Geoff, who made a face and mouthed it back childishly.

"Good morning Lindsay!" Gavin said up to her, reaching up to pat her hands where she had ahold of his chair.

"Yes, yes. You said that already," she teased, leaning over to give him a half-hug anyway.

He was still acting perfectly normal.

So why did her hand linger on his as she let go of him? Why did their fingers interlock for not even three seconds, and why did his eyes dart away when they did?

"Alright, well," Geoff began, snapping her from her thoughts. "That was Ryan. His kid's sick so he won't be in till his wife can come home after lunch," he explained. "So as soon as Ray and those guys," he motioned toward the build room, "get here, we'll record AHWU, then… I don't fucking know. Edit shit until the guy I gave the credit card to buy all the games we're doing today bothers to come to work, I guess."

Lindsay shrugged, turning back around to check the loading on the screen and grab her controller to put back on the charging station. As she did, she noticed Gavin out of the corner of her eye-

Staring right at her.

He could have just been staring into space in her direction by coincidence. It was Gavin, and he was known to daze out often. But if that was the case, why did he look away so quickly when he realized she was looking back at him?

She tried to offer him a smile. He glanced at her twice, then finally spun in his chair to face her. "What?" he asked, looking sincerely concerned.

"'What' yourself."

He rolled his eyes, turning back on his monitor. "You should really go get some work done, yeah?"

"Oh don't you even start."

But she headed back to the other room anyway, booting up the machine that was her actual workstation for the first time in most of a week. She'd delayed her actual work to get in on Let's Plays the previous week, then caught up on exactly none of it over the weekend, so it was probably best she sat out of anything Geoff didn't specifically come grab her for to make sure she could catch up faster.

It still wasn't even nine, so she probably had at least a half hour before any of the other back roomers showed up, and even then only Steffie would actually be back there for any length of time until they got through AHWU. She effectively had the room to herself for the next 90 minutes.

That would be plenty of time to get one of the shorter videos ready for rendering.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn't that Meg didn't see the On Air light lit up above the AH office door; it was that she knew damn well that it was a Monday morning and no one was going to blink if she walked in in the middle of AHWU. If anything, the only shit she'd get was that she didn't bring coffee for all of them.

She'd already left hers and Ashley's at their desk, leaving two still in hand as she poked her head in. Jack looked up from what he was reading out loud to say hi to her.

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt. Just ran back out for coffee and," she nodded toward Gavin, who was grinning from his seat.

"No worries. Feel free to hang out if you want," Jack smiled, nodding toward the side of the couch Matt wasn't sitting on.

"It's alright," she laughed, "I'm just going to drop these off real quick. Mondays are always busy news days!"

"Sure are," Jack agreed.

She moved to duck around the back of the camera, but was intercepted by Geoff. "Which one's Gavin's?" he asked. "I'll give it to him."

"Oh no you don't mister, I'm not falling for that one again."

"Oh, come on."

"Geoff."

"Come on."

" _Geoff_."

"God damn't. Gavin, why'd you have to find someone who's actually smart. I can barely fuck with you anymore."

"Oh please," Meg said, rolling her eyes. She gave Geoff a half-hug with the arm closest to him as she slipped past, leaning to give Gavin a kiss before leaving his drink on his desk.

"Thank you! Gonna sit for a few, love?" he asked her, pulling the lid off his coffee to see what she'd gotten him.

"Mmm maybe. I'm going to go give Lindsay hers first though," Meg said, nodding at her other drink.

"Alright."

"She's in the other room?"

"Should be, that's the last place I saw her go."

Meg planted another kiss atop his head as she walked off, walking in front of the camera this time since Jack hadn't re-started his read yet, though she noticed the record light was still going and stood on her toes to smile and wave into it as she passed.

"Special delivery!" she called as she opened the build room door. Lindsay jumped slightly, pulling her headphones off as she turned to see who had come in the room.

"Oh! Meg, it's just you," she said. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"Just this," she said, sitting on the edge of Lindsay's desk and offering her the frappuccino.

"Oooo!" Lindsay grinned, taking it from her. "Why, thank you m'lady," she giggled.

Meg rolled her eyes. "You're welcome," she said, leaning forward.

It was the briefest of kisses, just the same instinctive greeting Meg had exchanged with Gavin moments before. It was far from the first time they'd exchanged such a greeting, either; it'd become rather commonplace when they were in places no one could see.

But - the single time she'd kissed Lindsay's nose aside - it was the first time they'd kissed in over a week.

And boy, did it feel like it.

They caught themselves staring at each other, faces still too close together. Meg slid one hand across the desk, finding Lindsay's hand to squeeze it, their gaze unbreaking.

Lindsay turned her hand over, squeezing back, then tugged it free.

Meg's eyes were already shut by the time Lindsay's hands found her cheeks and pulled her closer, their lips sinking hard against each other's and her heart skipping a beat. That kiss in turn only lasted a moment before they pulled back, foreheads resting together, Lindsay's hands still cradling Meg's face.

"The window," Meg mumbled after a moment, sitting up abruptly.

"Oh," Lindsay said, glancing over toward the door. Most of it was one giant glass window, and while that was handy for checking up on the others, it meant if anyone stepped to that side of the room they'd be seen immediately. Gilby had been one thing; Gilby had been kind enough to accept what he'd seen and keep his mouth shut. Meg doubted she could trust anyone in Achievement Hunter to offer the same courtesy, and while it wasn't a fear that it'd be spread over the whole building since they'd have the sense not to gossip, there was also no way it wouldn't be drama. "Er, right."

They sat back upright, glancing between each other and the door, Lindsay giving little glances toward her coffee.

"I'll leave you to your work?" Meg offered, smiling.

"Wait," Lindsay answered, grabbing at her wrist before she could even turn.

Meg found herself being ushered into the far corner of the room, the one along the same wall as the door, where the window was only the barest sliver of light on the door. For a moment they paused, Lindsay's fingers still wrapped around Meg's wrist, Meg's other hand reaching to hold onto the loose front of Lindsay's cardigan.

Her eyes darted from the wall to the door to Lindsay, not really dwelling on any of them long enough to even focus. She wondered whether she should just press herself to the wall and let Lindsay do the rest - it was clear there  _was_  a rest, from the way Lindsay hadn't wanted her to leave - or if she should take the initiative and drag Lindsay down for another kiss. She knew she was quite a bit shorter than Lindsay, and while Meg was used to it, since Gavin was even taller than her, Lindsay was lost. Most of their kissing until now had taken place sitting or laying down, and when Meg felt her back meet the wall, it was with the younger girl leaning awkwardly over her.

She bounced up onto her toes, using the wall for balance, and pressed her lips full on to Lindsay's.

It was only a few seconds before she could settle back onto her heels, Lindsay following her down and letting one hand press to the wall over Meg's shoulder.

She'd waited for this all weekend. She'd asked Michael ahead of time just in case, just so they'd know for sure everything was kosher and that it wasn't stepping too far for them to make out without him in town. Then it'd never come. Sure, there'd been a few moments where Lindsay's hugs lingered a little long or her cheek brushed so close that Meg was sure she was going to kiss her, but it never came. She didn't push it, didn't try to start things beyond gentle flirting, just in case Michael had said something different to Lindsay after the fact or Lindsay had flat out decided not to let anything happen that weekend.

Meg hadn't gone a full week - hell, probably three days - without kissing Lindsay since their vacation, and now she didn't want to let go.

She was in too damn deep.

She was okay with that.

Lindsay let go of her wrist, reaching instead to cradle Meg's jaw to tilt her lips up further toward her. Meg quickly grabbed the other edge of her cardigan, wrapping the fabric around her fingers, tugging Lindsay closer by the sweater.

By the time the younger girl had leaned far enough into her that her weight was pinning her to the wall and Meg's hands were trapped between them, their kisses had grown desperate. Well, they'd been desperate from the first touch, but now they'd deepened, tongue dancing against tongue, soft panting escaping their lips each time they pulled apart.

Meg released Lindsay's sweater, letting her hands slip around her waist between it and her shirt, holding her closer. It was hard to guess how much longer they'd have privacy, so she'd just have to trust Lindsay's instincts and whether or not she could hear the door open. This was probably old hat to Lindsay by now; she probably dragged Michael in here on lunch on a regular basis, the way she and Gavin would sometimes disappear into the bunk above her desk.

They'd never been this careless at work before, even their deepest kisses lasting only a couple seconds before ending in a giggle and an unspoken promise to continue later. Meg couldn't actually remember a time where either of them had reached the point of moaning without at least one of their men watching or involved. But this wasn't a show and it wasn't for them, it was for her, and for Lindsay, and for the last few days where Lindsay had felt so strangely distant and she'd not known how to help.

She was far from distant now. When Lindsay's lips left hers and started trailing down her neck, Meg couldn't find it in herself to care that they were at work or that she was definitely going to have to redo her makeup. The way Lindsay's kisses to her neck felt was so different than what Gavin gave her - not better or worse, just different, their respective motions speaking so much of their personality. Lindsay's touch always felt possessive and commanding, but hesitant at the same time. Meg knew it was at least partially a lack of experience with other girls, but part of it seemed to be her waiting for approval, double-checking each move even in the heat of the moment.

Meg decided the best way to let Lindsay know that her advances were 100% welcome and 500% overdue was to let her hands slide down to squeeze the younger girl's ass.

The heat of Lindsay's gasp against her neck felt amazing, as did the light bite that followed as retaliation. "Is that how we're gonna play?" she growled against Meg's skin, leaving her to shiver slightly.

"Heck yeah," was her answer before she squeezed again, harder than before.

Meg felt Lindsay's hips roll in her grip and let her hands follow the motion, pulling her friend closer still to feel that motion against herself. She gasped as Lindsay's teeth grazed her skin again, a single nip just below her ear that made her rock back against her friend.

By the time Lindsay's lips made it back to Meg's, they were both breathless. Their eyes caught for only a second between staring dazed at the ceiling and slipping shut again, but in that instant, where Meg had expected to see ferocity from the taller girl, she saw only softness and yearning.

She let go of Lindsay, reaching up instead to wrap an arm around her neck and hold her close to the kiss. She phrased and rephrased a dozen things in her head, some of which had been floating in her head for the last week, some only since Lindsay had taken her wrist some now indiscernible number of minutes before, and some that had appeared from the moment she'd first seen Lindsay's smiling eyes so close to hers following that very first time they'd kissed. Each breath Meg took was meant to whisper one of them to Lindsay, but she used each up on another kiss instead, her lips now shaking each time she pulled back.

It was only when she felt Lindsay's fingers on the bare skin of her waist that she suddenly snapped out of it, still hypnotized by the attention she'd craved all week but once again aware of where they were and the risks involved.

"Lin, Lindsay," she breathed, turning her head so her cheek slid past the younger girl's when she pressed forward for the next kiss.

"Meg?" Lindsay purred back, lips resting firmly to her shoulder.

"The others. It's been a while…"

Lindsay chuckled, making no move to let go. Just when Meg was worried she'd phrased things wrong and Lindsay might think she meant the guys, Lindsay bolted upright, glancing over toward the door.

"Shit. You're right. Damn't."

"It's okay," Meg assured her, letting the hand that had been in Lindsay's hair stroke down her shoulder. "I forgot for a minute too."

Lindsay laughed softly, reaching up to straighten out her hair. She looked away from the door, catching Meg's eyes with a strained smile. "Sorry. I don't really know what came over me," she shrugged.

Meg rolled her eyes, leaning up to press another single kiss to her friend's lips. "Please. The only thing you should be apologizing for is leaving me hanging all weekend."

"...What?"

She laughed. "I mean I've been wanting to do that since the moment you stepped foot in my house Thursday night. I asked Michael if it was cool ahead of time and everything."

"Oh my god, you asked Michael?" Lindsay asked, voice full of amused disbelief.

"What? It seemed like the polite thing to do," she teased back, letting her hands gently take hold of the edges of Lindsay's sweater again and smiling up at her. "I mean I asked you before I kissed him."

Lindsay snorted, leaning down to touch her forehead to Meg's for a moment. "I've been meaning to ask you how that was."

"It was something we should talk about over lunch," Meg countered, "or that maybe you should just come over after work for us to discuss."

Lindsay pouted playfully down at her, leaving Meg to fall into a round of giggles. She looked so silly when she made that face, but with her cheeks still flushed from their kissing, she also looked even more beautiful than normal, making it very hard for Meg to not lean up and kiss her again right then and there.

"Come on. My coffee's going to get cold, and yours will melt," she scolded, leaning her forehead to Linday's shoulder for a second before letting go of her.

"Fine, fine. But next time, bribing me with java chip isn't gonna work missy."

Meg stuck her tongue out, turning to head back toward the door, her hand slipping into Lindsay's instinctively.

"...Hey, wait a second," Meg said, an idea suddenly dawning on her.

"Hmm?" Lindsay asked, turning to look back at her. She saw the smirk on Meg's face and her own smile grew. "And what exactly are you thinking."

"C'mere one second," she grinned, rewinding the two steps back to the corner and pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Lindsay's eyes went wide as she glanced between Meg and her phone. "Really?"

"What? You don't want to show Michael what he's missing so he'll be even more eager to get home?"

The younger girl took a few seconds to process that, squeezing Meg's hand as her other turned on the camera and put it to selfie mode.

"...Fuck yeah, why not," she decided, letting go of Meg's hand in favor of cupping her face, leaving them smiling nose to nose.

"Good," Meg laughed, wrapping her other arm around Lindsay. She glanced at the camera to make sure they were lined up, then looked back into Lindsay's eyes, unable to stop smiling at the mischief she saw there. "Okay. Three, two…"

She'd fully expected Lindsay to lean in to kiss her before she took the picture, and she couldn't help but grin against her lips when she did exactly that, taking a second to let her head tilt into the kiss before actually snapping the photo.

"There," Meg said as she pulled back. She pulled the picture up, giggling as Lindsay pressed a kiss to her cheek and settled her arm around Meg's shoulder. "Think Michael will like it?"

Lindsay stared at it a long moment, her fingers squeezing Meg's arm almost pensively. It occurred to Meg as she watched her face change between a few emotions that this was definitely the first time either of them had actually seen themselves kissing each other - they both had plenty of stills and footage of kissing their boys - and that it might have just made everything that much real to Lindsay.

With that in mind, her own heart skipped a beat when she looked back to the picture.

"Yeah," Lindsay said finally, sounding a little breathless. "You should definitely send it to him."

"You sure?" She pulled back far enough to look Lindsay in the eye, looking for any trace of hesitation, but there was only amusement there.

"Definitely. Do it," Lindsay assured her, grinning.

Meg laughed, pulling up the text message window as she walked back toward the door and leaning against the door frame to send it. Lindsay walked past her, sitting back down in her chair and starting to stir her Starbucks to get the melty bits mixed back in.

"Alright. The deed is done," Meg said, turning off her screen and putting the phone back in her pocket. "See you later?"

"Yeah," Lindsay answered. Meg didn't miss the tinge of a blush as she rested her chin in her hand and looked back toward the wall. "Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome."

"Laters," Lindsay called after her as she opened the door.

She was halfway down the hall before she got the text message from Lindsay.

  


 


	11. Tic Tac Toe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three in a row

"Michael! Hey man, why are you still not up?"

Michael grunted and rolled over, swatting at the air in Adam's general direction and missing by about half the room.

"C'mon, it's past 9 already. I know we don't exactly stand on 'work hours' in this company, but getting there before lunch sounds like a good plan."

He grunted again, this time opening his eyes and squinting at his friend, his eyes bleary from a mild hangover and the fact he hadn't even bothered to bring contacts or glasses along on his trip. "Da fuq?" he mumbled, turning his face to rub it into the pillow for a second then coming back up with his eyes open properly. "Can't be. I set a fucking alarm for like, 8:15."

"Well clearly you went overboard on the snooze button then."

"Nah, I couldn't've," Michael argued, rubbing his face with one hand before reaching over the arm of the sofa to grope for his phone on the side table. "I don't believe in snooze buttons man. Five more minutes of day is way more useful than a lousy five minutes of sleep."

Adam chuckled, plopping into his desk chair. "Even when you're hungover?"

"Well," he scoffed. "There's exceptions to every rule. Don't be stupid."

Adam just laughed.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Michael sighed once he had his phone in hand. "Damn thing's turned off." He pushed himself upright, yawning and pressing the power button as he went. "No battery?!" he snapped. "Oh come on, don't tell me I-"

He looked over at the side table. There was no sign of a charging cable.

"God damn't. Good job, Michael," he cursed at himself. "Absolutely stunning."

By the time Michael had climbed to his feet, dug his cord out of his backpack, plugged his phone in, and flopped back over, it was all Adam could do to not cry from trying to keep his laughter silent.

"Amazing," he taunted Michael, who threw his pillow at him and sighed.

"How long do we have?" Michael asked, giving another yawn.

"Not enough for you to go back to sleep on me."

"Nah, I was thinking more like a shower."

"Be my guest."

"Well shit. I mean, I appreciate the invitation, but what've I been for the last five days then?"

Adam met his smug grin with a slow shake of his head that came off nowhere near as disapproving as he was going for.

When Michael got back from the shower, towel still wrapped around his head and toothbrush crammed into the side of his mouth, Adam had claimed one side of the couch and turned on the TV. He stood beside the couch for a moment, watching the TV as he brushed his teeth, then leaned down to turn his still-charging phone on and snatch a shirt from his bag.

"Dumb fucking question," he said as he dropped onto the couch one trip back to the bathroom later.

"Useless rhetorical answer," Adam responded.

Michael continued, unfazed. "What brand is your couch?"

"No clue."

"Damn."

"Why?"

"Well, it's a hell of a lot more comfortable to sleep on than the one I've got, so I'm thinking about replacing it."

Adam looked at him in confusion. "Are you in trouble with Lindsay that often that you care if your couch is good to sleep on?"

"What? Oh. Pfffft, no. That's only happened like," Michael paused, looking thoughtful, "once. Maaayyyybe twice, but that was years ago so I can't remember if I was in trouble or just being polite and letting her have my bed."

Adam chuckled. "Well, if you really care, I'm sure there's a tag on one of these cushions. Knock yourself out."

"Nah, 's alright."

Adam shrugged, looking back up to the TV as Michael grabbed his phone and started leafing through his alerts.

"It's almost at 50%, so we can go in like, ten minutes? If that's cool."

"It'll charge faster if you don't use it."

"I know, I know. But I've got like, thirty texts, and only half of them are Ray begging me to come back home quickly and never leave him alone with these lunatics again."

Adam snorted, leaning over to look at Michael's phone. "Really?"

"Nah, he only sent me one," he said, tilting his phone so Adam could verify that that was, indeed, what Ray had sent him.

"Tell him next time he can come visit us, then?"

"Ha, sure," Michael said, typing out a quick response before tapping back to his inbox. "Huh, Meg sent me something. She never texts me." It was true; usually if she had something to say to him and couldn't in person, it was something funny enough that they'd tweet at one another. Most their text message history consisted of things like, "we're in the parking lot", but even that she usually had Gavin send since she'd be driving.

So the last thing he expected to see when opening his texts at 9:30 on a Monday morning was a selfie of Meg very enthusiastically macking on his wife.

He didn't even realize Adam was still reading over his shoulder until he heard him choke, prompting Michael to turn off his screen in a hurry and sit bolt upright.

"Was that-"

"Was what?"

"That photo."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Adam. There was no photo."

"So you're telling me Meg's in the business of sending you photos of her kissing just random girls."

"You need to get your eyes checked man-"

"Who just happen to look uncannily like Lindsay."

"And you're in the business of kissing my boss on stage in front of thousands of people, your point?"

"That you're awfully embarrassed about 'no photo'."

"I-" Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Look. Sometimes the girls get drunk, and they just. Y'know? You know how girls are."

Adam sighed too, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "Michael, look. You don't have to make shit up. Your secret's safe with me."

"What ' _secret_ '?" Michael snapped.

"Really? It's always been obvious that you two and Gavin-"

"LALALALA I'M NOT LISTENING!" he said, covering his ears. "I know we joke about it a lot but it's a thing called fanservice! The same reason you spanked me during AHWU last week!" he continued, voice intentionally loud to speak over any attempts Adam might have had at interrupting.

"Because fanservice really has you tweeting about how Meg was the missing piece of your crew all along."

"First of all, that's not what it said, and second, no one's ever going to let that one die, are they?"

"Not on the internet."

"Yeah, I know." Michael sighed in frustration, letting his elbows drop to his knees and his face into his hands. "Okay you know what? Fine. I'll humor you. Convince me it's not 'just fanservice'. You have two minutes to tell me why the hell you think I'm sharing my wife with Gavin."

"See, I always saw it more as you're sharing Gavin with her, but-"

"Jesus Christ," Michael snapped, jumping to his feet and cutting him off. "You know what, nevermind. This isn't a conversation that needs to be happening. Not now, not ever." He walked off into the kitchen as he ranted, muttering to himself still once he was too far for Adam to hear.

Adam shook his head in a mix of amusement and disbelief, giving Michael a minute to vent.

"You done yet?" he called out of the room after he heard the fridge slam shut.

Michael's voice echoed down the hall, "Not even started!"

He reappeared in the doorway a moment later, cup of Adam's wife's yogurt in one hand and spoon in his mouth as he leaned against the wall.

"Dude, gross," Adam said, scrunching his eyebrows at his houseguest.

"What?"

"You just brushed your teeth. The food's gonna be all minty."

"Dude," Michael said through a mouthful of stolen yogurt, "we fucking went over this on like, Wednesday. I do this shit. Fucking deal with it." He swallowed before adding, "Besides, I'm using that new cinnamon flavored shit."

"I feel like that's worse."

Michael just grunted and shoved another spoonful in his mouth.

Adam sat in silence for a moment, the TV still playing quietly but somehow drowned out by the sounds of Michael scraping his spoon on the insides of his yogurt cup with increasing aggression.

"I can just pretend I didn't see it, you know," he said once it was clear there was no yo left to plait in Michael's cup.

"What's the fucking use if everyone thinks I'm doing something I'm not anyway?"

"I thought it was fanservice?"

"Well, yeah," Michael shrugged, still staring intently into his cup. "But you're not a fan."

"Am I not?"

"As sweet as that is, you also know what the fuck I mean."

They leveled stares at one another for a good minute, Adam struggling not to crack a smile.

Then Michael threw his hands up in the air, huffing as he turned around, stomped into the kitchen, slammed the trash can open and shut loudly enough that it made Adam wince, then came back in to sit on Adam's desk chair.

"Alright," he said, eyes narrowed and hands folded pensively. "Enlighten me."

Adam continued to stare at him for several seconds, waiting to see if he was going to flip out again before he answered.

"Remember The Gauntlet?"

"Duh."

"I didn't really know you before then, but the entire time all I could think was, wow, these three are inseparable, they make a perfect team."

"Thank you, but I'm gonna need more than that."

"Then how about we skip straight to the part where the way you smile around Gavin is the exact same way you smile around Lindsay?"

"I- pffft- what? What the fuck? According to what gifset? Oh hi Adam, I didn't know you had a _fucking Tumblr_."

"Your overreaction is another good piece of evidence."

"Oh my fucking god."

Adam raised his eyebrows.

"What?! You try having to explain three times a month that no, you're not actually blowing this guy, and still be able to keep your cool about it."

"Okay," he shrugged, leaning back on the couch and draping his arms on the backrest. "There's nothing going on between you two."

"Exactly."

"But that was definitely a picture of you two's wife and girlfriend kissing, and-" Adam held his hand up as Michael's mouth opened, trying to get him to let him finish, "the only part you seem upset over is the fact I saw."

Michael huffed, glaring at him.

"And somehow, I can't see you being okay with that even if they were drunk."

Silence.

Adam didn't break eye contact. Neither blinked.

More silence.

Michael covered his face, exhaling hard and mumbling into his palms.

"What was that?" Adam asked, tilting his head closer.

"They were the first time," he repeated, lifting his hands just far enough from his mouth to be heard.

"Were what?"

"Drunk."

"Oh."

"I just." Michael sighed, pulling one hand away to still his anxiously tapping leg, the other covering his eyes. "There was a bet, and they kissed, and I thought it would bother me but fuck, it hasn't yet."

Adam let out a single chuckle.

"Fuck. Fuck, why the hell am I even telling you this," Michael snapped, lurching back in the chair. "We agreed no one would fucking say anything, what the fuck. What am I even _doing_?"

"Divulging amazing blackmail?"

Michael sat bolt upright, causing Adam to hold his hands up in surrender.

"You know I'm joking."

"Yeah, well, _not funny_."

"Okay, fine."

It took a moment before Michael finally dropped his gaze, slumping back into his hands.

Adam cleared his throat. "When I said your secret's safe with me, I meant it. I've got too many skeletons in my own closet to pull anything like that."

"I know," Michael muttered.

"...So Meg and Lindsay?" Then, after Michael hadn't responded several seconds later, "If you don't mind me asking."

"They- hell if I even know." He sighed out his nose, pulling at his face again. "They kiss. A lot. And are fucking adorable when they do." Michael looked up, meeting Adam's suddenly softened gaze, then averting his eyes just as quickly. "It. Lindsay's happy. If she's happy, I'm happy."

He saw Adam nod out the corner of his eye.

"And that's not some… 'well I guess I'll put up with it' bullcrap. When I see them together, I just. There's not a jealous bone in my body."

Adam nodded again as Michael turned to face him. The younger man's face was void of color, like confessing had taken everything out of him.

"I know, it's fucking stupid," he muttered, lowering his eyes again. "I've got no good reason not to be angry about it, and I fucking know it."

"It's not," Adam said, shrugging softly. He leaned forward, mimicking Michael's posture and folding his hands together. "People have open relationships all the time. Even married people."

"It's not open though," Michael corrected. "If it was anyone else, I wouldn't let- I wouldn't want her to."

Michael took a deep breath, shaking his head.

"I mean. I don't mean I _want_ her to. Just. 'Let her' sounds so possessive and I'm not- No, I _am_ a jealous asshole, but I trust Lindsay and-"

"It sounds like you've thought about this a lot."

"I-" he sighed forcefully, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. "How could I not? I've been trying to reason this out for months. When it's happening, I don't think, I don't worry about it, but then shit like this happens and I have no idea how to fucking explain myself."

Adam's eyes widened for a second at the word 'months', but he kept his face steady, trying not to stress his houseguest further. He clearly needed to vent. "You've had to explain yourself before?"

"Yeah. To myself, like seven hundred times," Michael snorted, shaking his head again. "And to Gavin."

"Is he so understanding about it?"

"I guess? I mean, he was pretty fucking confused at first, don't get me wrong. Hell, I _still_ fucking am. Obviously."

Adam nodded.

"But now he's just… It's like he's too chill with it. I don't know what's going on in his mincy little British head." The corner of Michael's mouth twitched into a half-smile as he imitated his teammate's vocabulary.

"So then I'm guessing, the photo was them trying to mess with you guys?"

"Maybe? I don't know, this is a new one." He stared across the room at his phone, his forehead creased with concern. "I mean. I'm not going to sit here and try to say it's not hot. It's my smokin' babe of a wife making out with our close friend who just happens to literally be on the hottest women in the world list. I'd be crazy not to find that hot. That's every remotely straight guy's dream, y'know?"

"I won't disagree."

"Exactly!"

"But?" Adam offered.

Michael sighed heavily, chewing at his lip and shrugging as he sat back upright. "I honestly don't think there is a but," he confessed. "I feel like there really _should_ be one. But there's just." He sighed, waving his hands vaguely. "...Not."

"I'm guessing it's not purely physical, then?"

Michael snorted, making a face that could only be surmised as, "oh boy, here we go."

"For them? Probably not. Plus I'm pretty sure for a relationship to be 'purely physical' you have to actually be banging."

Adam blinked.

Michael raised an eyebrow, daring him to speak.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So you…"

"No, I have not witnessed my wife doing the nasty with another woman, so you can stop imagining it now."

"Oh come on. Who said I was?"

"Well you're a fucking idiot then, because I sure as hell would have been if I were in your shoes."

Adam laughed. "Fair."

Michael stood up, snatching his phone off the side table and checking the power. "It's at 64%, let's bail," he said, popping it off the cord.

"You think you're going to escape this conversation that easily?"

Michael looked down at him incredulously, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket for dramatic emphasis. "You got me to fucking admit Lindsay's been making out with my boi's girlfriend and that I'd probably be on board if they decided to fuck. What more do you want?"

Adam shrugged again. "To know where Gavin fits into this?"

Michael choked on his first laugh, then bent down for his backpack, grabbing it and slinging it over his shoulder before walking out of the room as he descended into hysterics.

The fact he refused to let the volume of the car stereo get lower than window-rattling for the whole drive to the office told Adam all he needed to know.

 

* * *

 

Just after lunch, Gavin's phone buzzed in his pocket. He wasn't recording just yet - Jack and Ray had started playing games for Hunt while waiting for the others to come back - so he pulled it out to check the message.

He'd been using the side of Michael's chair, the bit of the seat beneath the armrest, as a footrest for the last ten minutes or so, both before and since Lindsay had sat down in the chair (though she'd made a valiant effort to push him off).

Not only did his feet fall to the floor upon opening the message from his girlfriend, but the rest of him nearly managed to as well.

"Jesus christ Gav, are you okay?!" Lindsay asked urgently as he managed to right himself at the expense of knocking over his microphone.

"Fine. Absolutely top," he insisted, shooing her hands away as he reached down to pick up his fallen equipment.

"You break another mic, I'm taking it out of your paycheck!" Geoff warned from across the room, not looking up from the video he was proof-watching.

Gavin glared over in Geoff's direction, then smiled as he contemplated finding something to chuck at his boss's head. Of course he wasn't going to, he'd already gotten into one wrestling match with him today, but from the slight smirk Geoff was wearing, Gavin was sure he'd been expecting something to get tossed his way.

"What was that all about?" Lindsay asked once Gavin's mic stand was back in position.

"Just lost my balance."

"Tried to do too many things at once?" she teased.

"Hardly." Gavin rolled his eyes.

He picked back up his phone, turning his chair so that this time his back would be toward the wall when he reopened the picture Meg had sent.

He licked at his lips, suddenly feeling very parched when he glanced back up at Lindsay.

Lindsay's phone buzzed in her pocket. She paid it no attention beyond a brief glance, still clicking away on the screen in front of her.

Gavin got sick of waiting and put his feet up on her lap very abruptly. He met her scowl with a wide-eyed gaze that darted meaningfully between his own phone, her pocket, and her face, until she finally got the picture and pulled her phone out.

"What?" Lindsay asked out loud, squinting back over at Gavin in confusion.

Gavin made a face at her and shook his phone in her direction.

"Oh my god," she muttered, unlocking her screen again and swiping a reply to him.

Lindsay's face spent several seconds in confusion and frustration as she glanced between Gavin and her screen, mouthing what the fuck at him.

He could tell when the answer dawned on her, because her eyes flared open and she nearly dropped her phone.

  


Lindsay looked up just in time to see him pointing a Disney-worthy puppy-eyed pout at her, causing her to scoff and look away again. Gavin laughed at her reaction, firing off another message before she had a chance to respond.

He looked back up at her, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the others were still busy before switching back to the text from Meg and double check the picture. Yes, she was definitely wearing the same sweater as in the picture, her makeup the same colors, and he was almost certain that that was the shirt Meg had left the house in as well, though she hadn't paused for an outfit tweet that morning so he hadn't paid enough attention to say for absolute sure.

He'd barely seen either of them during lunch, Lindsay still in the build room when he and Geoff left, and Meg only just leaving with Ashley for her own meal when he got back. It might have been then, but when had they had the time alone?

He squinted, trying to tell what room they were in, when another text alert popped up, startling him.

Gavin only half-contained an alarmed squeak as he read the words, eyes wide as he turned back toward Lindsay. She caught his eye and shrugged slowly, mouthing the word "oops?" before turning back away.

  
  
  


Gavin looked up, glaring at her. His face felt frustratingly hot, his mind trying to push aside memories of the times she meant. He knew when one of the times was - she'd joked about being sorry to interrupt and then left again, leaving him and Michael to argue over whose fault it was that they hadn't noticed the door open. But the other time…

Why were there so many options for when the other time could have been? Pass it on game or no - and some of those had definitely been "or no" - when had kissing Michael become so commonplace that he couldn't narrow it down. He had no idea what day she'd managed to catch them _without them even noticing_ , and that was the part that really terrified Gavin. If Lindsay had managed it, had anyone else, too?

His phone buzzed in his hands; he'd been staring off into space long enough that his screen had gone dark, so he unlocked it to check Lindsay's latest message.

Gavin sighed, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his elbow on the desk and his face in his hand.

He felt his expression soften as he read. He glanced out the corner of his eye at Lindsay, who set her phone down and leaned back to stretch, sighing heavily. When she sat back upright, he found himself lingering on her face, trying to remember when he'd seen her make the same faintly bashful look she wore now.

Then Gavin remembered Saturday night, remembered watching Lindsay as she gently doted on his sleeping girlfriend, remembered the almost magnetic pull he'd felt when their eyes had met, and remembered that same expression as her eyes flitted from his, to his lips, then away as fast as she could take them.

His throat went dry again, but this time, he knew why.

It wasn't even the dream that came rushing back to him. It was the coy, almost shy look she'd given him the week before, with both Michael and Meg between them, preoccupied with one another. Their eyes met as she grazed her teeth down his girlfriend's neck, and he'd seen the laugh in the way her face moved more than he'd heard it before she'd pressed her face into Meg's shoulder a moment, hiding her eyes and blush there. He'd waited for her to look back up before wiggling his eyebrows at her and nipping at the edge of Michael's ear, making him twitch against him, though Michael defiantly refused to stop kissing Meg. Lindsay had let out another breathless laugh as he grinned victoriously at her.

Then he'd felt her hand grip his arm tightly, her smirk hiding against Meg's skin again, and he'd found himself licking his lips and stifling the urge to try and twist over the other two to pull her into a kiss.

At the time, he'd dismissed it as the heat of the moment, then quickly wiped it from his mind. He was good at that, at conveniently forgetting almost anything he just plain didn't want to think about. But the dream had tried to resurface it, and now…

His breath was hot against his hands as he turned off his phone screen and tented them over his face.

Gavin shut his eyes, tried to sort things out, felt his leg start to tap anxiously and willed it to stop, then sighed and covered his face again, breath just as hot.

He opened his eyes again when he felt a gentle touch on his knee, and looked up to see Lindsay's face full of concern.

He did the only thing he could think to do.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing softly, only to have her squeeze his fingers back, harder.

He spent a few seconds looking at her, then even more looking anywhere but her, his leg starting to jitter again as he studied the edge of the ceiling. His fingers twitched against hers, squeezing again, then shifting until their hands were interlocked, though only at half their fingers.

He'd held Lindsay's hand before, several times, usually playfully or because one of them was dragging the other somewhere.

It had never felt like pure electricity buzzing against his palm before.

_Oh, fuck it._

He pulled his hand back from her suddenly, grabbing his phone and unlocking it again.

Gavin wasn't sure how long she stared at the message before answering him. It definitely felt like an hour.

Finally he saw Lindsay fold her lips in for a moment and then give a soft smile, barely swiping the screen before locking it again.

He was obscenely grateful when Jack's chair rattled away from his desk behind them less than a minute later, Jack standing up and announcing, "Okay, we're done. What's next?", because it saved him from deciding if he should respond or not.

 

* * *

 

"Hey."

Lindsay caught Gavin before he could leave the room, hand reaching out to grab at the back of his shirt just in case speaking hadn't gotten his attention.

He turned around to look at her, and she was caught off guard by how wide-eyed his expression was.

"...Sorry?" she offered, feeling bewildered.

"...For what?" Gavin asked, echoing her tone.

"Oh. It just looked like I startled you."

"What? Oh, no. Not at all," he assured. His brow furrowed, then he corrected himself. "Well, maybe a little, but only because I was busy thinking."

Lindsay managed not to make the hundredth "that must have been hard for you" joke of the year, but the corner of her mouth still twitched, betraying her internal laughter.

Gavin paused for a moment, giving her a look that meant he knew she'd thought the joke, even if she'd managed not to say it. "Well… what's up?" he asked her once he realized she wasn't going to follow up on her greeting.

"Oh. Um." Lindsay shifted in place, shoving her hands in her pockets. "I guess I was just seeing if that offer was real?"

"What offer?"

Lindsay sighed, posture sinking to glare at him from beneath her bangs. She couldn't tell for sure if he was playing dumb or just that spaced out, but either way it was frustrating her. "'What offer,' really?" She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up at eye level, shaking it slightly to draw attention to it.

He blinked.

She sighed again.

"Oh! That offer. Right."

He cleared his throat, glancing around to be sure no one else was paying attention to them talking. The others all seemed to be busy, Ray talking with Kerry and Tina, the latter of whom had been sitting on the couch for the better part of an hour waiting to take them home, and the gents wrapped up in conversation together. Only Ryan took notice of their wandering eyes, smirking and nodding toward them, adding a wink once Gavin flashed him a distressed look before turning back to Jack.

"Well yes, of course it is. I really don't see why you've bothered going home at all this week, to be honest."

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, doing a surprisingly good job of staring her right in the eye despite the blush she could see forming on his face.

"...Well, good," Lindsay told him, putting her phone back in her pocket, "because Meg already invited me earlier."

A wave of confusion passed over Gavin's face, one that Lindsay grinned at all the while.

"Well then I guess that settles it," he said suddenly.

"Wait, what?"

"Two against one, Lindsay. You have to come now."

"Well maybe now I won't just to spite you."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"You'd disappoint Turney."

Lindsay grew silent, narrowing her eyes at him. "You win this one, Vav. But only because you fight dirty."

Both were only able to hold serious faces for a moment before they broke down laughing, Lindsay leaning forward and resting her forehead against his shoulder as she snorted helplessly. Gavin grinned, reaching up to ruffle her hair, resting his cheek affectionately on the back of her head for a moment.

As she stood back up properly, she swore she felt his lips graze her temple, just for the barest of seconds. But his expression hadn't changed at all, so surely she was just imagining it?

She threw her arms around him in a too-tight hug before she could think too much.

"I rode with Blaine and Barb so I'll have to go home first," she said, voice intentionally quiet but still casual.

"You could ride with us?"

"I don't want to make you guys take me home later. Plus I want to get a few things."

"Alright then," Gavin agreed, reaching up to pat her back.

Lindsay lifted him up off the ground, causing him to squawk loudly and flail his legs.

"Lindsaaaaaay," he whined, voice playful but alarmed. "For Christ's sakes, put me down, woman!"

"Never!"

He made another noise, this one more alarmed, and by now the whole room had turned to look.

"God, I always forget that you barely weigh more than your cat," she teased, leaning further back when his toes managed to touch the floor.

"Oh come off it," Gavin spouted, still laughing.

Lindsay finally put him down, the two exchanging a grin and Gavin swatting jokingly at the side of Lindsay's head.

"Me next!" Tina shouted from behind Gavin, racing over and throwing herself at Lindsay.

Lindsay grunted from the impact, laughing and hugging Tina to her. "Okay, okay fine," she said, lifting her friend into the air.

"See you at home, then?" Gavin asked, nodding to Lindsay.

"Yeah," she agreed. "See you at home."

For a second, she wondered when she'd started calling their place home, or if it was just easier to say it the same way Gavin had.

Then Ray was on Tina's back, shouting, "Higher, mommy, higher!" and she was too busy trying not to topple over to worry about it.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hello?"

"Eyyy, boi! How's LA?"

"You've got the wrong number."

"Oh, come off it. I know it's you, boi."

"Lo siento, no hablo Inglés señor." Michael smirked at his own badly accented Spanish, tilting his head to pin his phone between his ear and shoulder and free his hands to finish clasping his seatbelt.

"If you're still working I can call you back, you know."

"Nah, 'salright, boi. Just messing with you. We actually just got in the car."

With how late they'd left for Rooster Teeth Outpost #2, and the fact Michael had demanded Adam buy him Jack in the Box for breakfast on the way there as payment for his mental trauma, they'd opted to just work through lunch and leave a bit early. Michael had been trying to barter In-N-Out as additional atonement when his phone rang, leaving him still trying to gesture for burgers as he talked to Gavin.

"Awww, are you talking to your boyfriend?" Adam teased, waggling his eyebrows before turning on the car.

Michael made it about a third of the way through "Oh for fuck's sake, he's not my boyfriend" before thinking better of giving Adam ammo or saying it in Gavin's earshot.

"Oh for fuck-"

"What's wrong, boi?"

"Uh- nothing. I just thought I left my backpack inside, that's all."

"Ah, alright."

Adam tried not to laugh as he made kissy faces toward Michael, who hastily switched his phone to his right hand so he could block out Adam from his peripheral with his left. "So what's up, Gav? Something that couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

Adam whispered from the driver's seat, making no move to put the car into gear. "He just missed you that much."

Michael scowled, moving his hand just long enough to cast his disapproval at Adam before shielding his eye again.

"Ah. Well. Sort of?" Gavin said hesitantly. "I guess I just wanted to chat with you, is all."

"You don't sound too sure about that."

"Well it's just, it sounds dumb now that you've pointed out you'll be back here soon."

"Yeah, I mean, not even 24 hours."

"He misses youuuuu," Adam said even quieter, leaning toward Michael as he did.

Michael swatted in his direction, turning away so his forehead was resting on the window. "I'm guessing it must have been something important to merit calling. You usually text first."

"I'm usually making sure you're not recording or something. I figure you can't be too busy out there."

"Well, you're not wrong."

They shared a chuckle and then an awkward pause, Gavin oddly speechless and Michael certain that Adam was going to twist anything he said. He didn't want to turn to look behind him because he was sure Adam was leaning halfway across the car at him by now.

"I wanted to ask you something, actually," Gavin said finally.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"I've… I've forgotten now."

Michael's palm forwent its duty as a makeshift wall in favor of clapping to his forehead. "Oh for crying out loud."

"I'm sorry!"

"You know I don't believe that for an instant, right?"

"I really am!"

"Well, I don't believe that either, but I meant that you can't remember what you were going to ask."

"He was going to ask you if he could be top this week," Adam whispered from as close to Michael's ear as he'd expected him to be.

"FUCKING. ADAM!" Michael shouted, turning to shove him back with his whole forearm and then smack him in the shoulder for good measure. "Would you stop being creepy and fucking drive already, you jackass!"

Adam laughed in a way that could only be called a cackle, throwing the car in reverse and taking off so fast that Michael was jerked into the window.

"Jesus," he muttered as he pulled the phone back up to his ear, still sneering across the car.

"Everything alright over there?" Gavin asked, confused by the shouting and clattering from the other end of the line.

"Yeah, it's just that my ride thinks he's fucking funny."

"Oi. What'd he do?"

"I'm hilarious," Adam countered.

Michael sighed out his nose, rubbing his temple. "Nothing worth mentioning."

"Fair enough. I'm guessing you're kind of busy after all then?"

"I wouldn't call it busy, more just that I have a captive audience."

"Hey man, if you two need some privacy I can pull over somewhere. Just don't get anything on the seats."

Michael held his hand up threateningly, which only dissuaded Adam from speaking, not laughing.

"What's he on about?" Gavin asked.

"Apparently he's fantasizing about us banging in his car."

Gavin choked on a laugh, his voice cracking. "Really?"

"Apparently! It's all he's been able to talk about since I answered the phone."

"He's projecting!" Adam hollered, trying to be loud enough Gavin could hear him.

"Uh- _huh_ ," Michael countered, casting him a look of disbelief. "Says the married guy who's kissed no less than four dudes on camera just since he got hired."

Adam scoffed in mock-offense. "Hey, you don't know what's in my contract."

"Excuses, excuses."

Gavin laughed again. "Well it sounds like you've got your hands full. I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Wait, no, Gavin, don't leave me!" Michael said dramatically. "What if he tries to kiss _me_ next?!" He clutched at his chest as though horrified, pressing himself into the corner between the door and his seat and staring at Adam in an impression of fear which was entirely ineffective since he couldn't stop grinning.

"Oh, I think you'll be fine. Unless he's got a camera hidden in the car somewhere."

"I hope you're right," Michael said, voice still quivering in pretend fear.

"Besides," Gavin added, voice suddenly growing quiet, "you don't mind much when I do it."

Michael held his breath at the comment, though a single squeak of shock made it through first.

"Haha, sorry 'bout that. Couldn't resist," Gavin said. "Give him hell for me, boi."

Michael tried to keep his laugh as neutral as possible. "Yeah, you better believe I will."

"Alright, good. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see ya," Michael agreed, throwing in a couple more "bye"s before he finally hung up.

He didn't have to look at Adam to know he was grinning maniacally.

"So what was all that about?"

"Shut up."

"He must have said something pretty big to get to you like-"

"I said fucking shut it."

Adam went quiet at the bitterness in Michael's voice, glancing over at him a couple more times before finally centering his attention on the road. Michael reached over and turned on the radio, tapping the volume button until it was almost uncomfortably loud, then slumped down low in his seat.

A minute of silence later, he turned his screen back on and typed out a few choice threats to Gavin, not bothering to even proofread them before he hit the send button as hard as his thumb could and crammed the phone back into his pocket. He banged the back of his head on the headrest a few times, growling to himself, his nails digging into his palms. Finally, Michael sighed heavily, letting his eyes slip shut and managing to slide even further down his seat.

Around his third sigh, Adam reached over and turned the radio back down, chancing only a single glance at Michael before speaking, gaze carefully kept straight ahead more out of respect for Michael than concern for the near-standstill rush hour traffic they were now caught in.

"Sorry if I went too far there," he offered.

"It's not you," Michael mumbled, too quiet to be heard over the music still.

"Hmm?"

Michael groaned, pushing off on the seat to sit back up properly. "It's not you," he repeated. "It's. God, he's such a _fucking idiot_."

"Gavin?" Adam ventured.

"No duh," Michael snarled. "He just. Argh. He treats this all like one big joke!"

"All of what?"

"Oh, like you haven't figured it out already," he grumbled.

"I think I have," Adam agreed, "but I overstepped on the girls earlier, and I didn't want to do that again."

"No, Gavin and I are not banging. We'll put that on the table right fucking now."

"Yesterday I wouldn't have believed you-" Michael started to snarl, prompting Adam to hold his hand up and finish his thought a bit louder and more quickly, "-but after this morning, I kind of figured that much."

"Good."

"Where _does_ that put you two, then?"

Michael didn't answer, head falling to the side so he could stare blankly out the passenger window.

By the time the next song started, Michael was still silent. Adam cleared his throat. "Forget I asked, I'll stop being nosey."

"I don't know."

Adam blinked. "What?"

"I don't know."

Michael sighed loudly, reaching up to drag his hands down his face as he drew a few deep breaths. "I don't fucking know. I've been trying to figure that out for a while."

Adam felt his stomach sink, eyes darting to Michael again. All the color had drained from his face again, his expression uncharacteristically blank. Every time Adam had seen him, Michael was either smiling or yelling, never anywhere in between, and yet here he was, head leaned listlessly against the window, no hint of emotion on his lips.

"Oh," was all Adam could manage.

"Gavin just." Michael sighed again, pressing his lips together and squeezing his own leg harshly. "Everything's a fucking joke to him. It's all a game. He thinks he's fucking hysterical."

"And you don't?"

"Oh, I do. Just. Not about this," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Whatever this is," he added, waving his hand vaguely.

Adam weighed his statement before asking, "So you don't like that he thinks it's a joke?"

"It was a joke. It probably still should be."

"But for you, it's serious."

"Yes!" Michael snapped, then correct himself to, "I don't know. Maybe."

Adam drove quietly, waiting for him to continue on his own time.

"Just. I'm fucking _married_. This is so fucked up."

"Married people fuck other people all the time."

"So you said earlier."

Adam shrugged. "Well, it's true."

"Yeah, but this isn't fucking. I think I'd be less confused if it was, honestly."

Adam glanced at him again, wondering if he should ask what it was, but decided instead to go with, "Well, it isn't with the girls either, right?"

"...No. No it's not."

"So then what's the problem?"

Michael scoffed like it was the dumbest question he'd ever been asked. "Well, let's see. Where do I start. Oh, how about with the fact I'm not gay."

"Really? That's what you're going to lead with?"

"Yes?"

"And how do you know you're not gay?"

"I have a wife, man! I've never dated a guy in my life."

"Okay, then how do you know you're not bisexual?"

"Men aren't hot. I know we all joke about it a lot, but I really just don't find guys attractive. At all."

"Not even Gavin?"

" _Fuck_ no. He's-" Michael gestured wildly, his face scrunched. "He's _Gavin_."

"So?"

"Have you ever even _seen_ the guy?"

"Yeah. The nose is a little weird, but otherwise he's definitely easy on the eyes."

Michael sputtered.

"Okay, so you're not sexually attracted to guys. So then ask yourself, why are you kissing Gavin?"

"I'm not-"

Michael sighed, slumping in his seat. He'd argued with Adam about this too much as was, and they were just going in circles. There wasn't a point in dragging it out any longer.

"Okay, fine. Originally, it was because it got the girls hot."

Adam tried hard to suppress his laugh but failed.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. When's the last time you had enough sex in one day that you couldn't even stand up?"

"You got me there," Adam answered, shrugging.

"Exactly. And that's kind of why the girls started, too - it was kind of a mutual thing."

"Damn. Kinky."

Michael glared at him. Adam ignored him in favor of putting on his blinker to start working his way toward their exit.

"So what makes you say 'originally'?"

"The fact I've lost count of how many times we've kissed without them around."

Adam clicked his tongue, sighing thoughtfully. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"You see my problem, then."

They pulled to a stop at the light, Adam taking a moment to give Michael a high-eyebrowed stare. "Well. If you're not into him sexually, why _are_ you kissing him that much."

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!"

"No ideas?"

"Zero."

"Why do you kiss Lindsay?"

" _Why does everyone think I'm in love with Gavin?!_ "

Adam looked at him out the corner of his eye.

"...Don't you dare pull 'you said it, not me', because that was a fucking loaded question and you know it."

"Oh, it was."

Michael was glaring at him like he was considering whether possibly crashing the car in the process was worth beating the shit out of him right then and there.

"What?!" Michael demanded. "Are you going to try and tell me I'm in love with Meg, too?"

"Oh, Meg too, then? The plot thickens!"

"That's not what I- Fuck. Jesus fucking. _Fuck_. Yes. Fucking. If you tell anyone I swear I will fucking murder you. Yes. I kissed Meg. _Once_ ," he conceded. Mumbling, he added, "For like ten minutes."

Adam didn't even try to hide his surprised laughter this time. "Holy shit. You guys are in deep."

"No fucking shit!" Michael snapped, slamming his fist on the armrest. "And with me out of town for a whole fucking week, I'm sure Lindsay's managed to kiss Gavin by now, too."

Adam waited till he was sure Michael was done shouting before asking any more questions. "Does that idea bother you?"

Michael closed his eyes, thinking very seriously, fighting between his logic and the fantasies that flashed back across his mind. "...No."

Adam nodded slowly, waiting to see if Michael was going to lose it again or not.

"Multiple person relationships exist too, you kn-"

"Don't. Just. Don't even, Adam," Michael yelled, though there was no fire behind it now. "I know that, okay? But we're not hippies in some commune, alright? I'm married to Lindsay because I love her. Gavin's my best friend, my boi, but it's not - it's different. I don't want to marry Gavin or anything. Or Meg, for that matter."

Adam just nodded again. "Fair enough."

"Good," Michael grumbled.

"Feel better?"

"...Kind of."

"Still want burgers?"

"You owe me way more than burgers after that."

"I won't make you give me gas money and we'll call it even."

"Gas money?! Excuse me, I thought Burnie was paying you to put me up for the week. What's this bullshit about gas money? You want me to pay you back for the fucking toilet paper I wiped my ass with this morning, too?"

Adam chuckled as he pulled into the In-N-Out lot. "Well, now that you mention it…"

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay's van had been in the driveway for ten minutes. Gavin knew because he'd gotten up and looked out the window twice now to be sure it really was her and she was still there.

Meg had suggested, when they'd first heard her pull up but not come out of the car, that she was probably on the phone. Gavin had opted to assume it was the truth, rather than trying to think of any other reasons.

(He could think of a lot of other reasons, and most of them were making him consider sneaking out the back door before she overcame them and got inside first.)

Meg was sitting sideways in his lap, where she'd been before Lindsay had pulled up and where she'd sat back down after the second time he'd looked out the window, in hopes of keeping him still. The TV was on, but neither of them was really paying attention. Gavin was playing with the ends of his girlfriend's hair absentmindedly, and she was reading something on her phone, chuckling and scrolling every minute or so.

They knew when she finally opened the door, less by the clunk of the van door and more because Penny made it from her seat on the couch to the door faster than either of them could look up. She danced around on the doormat expectantly, giving impatient half woofs when the others didn't meet her at the door right away.

Gavin waited patiently for Meg to get off his lap, then frowned and poked her in the side when she still hadn't several seconds later. She obviously knew Lindsay was arriving, she'd turned her phone's screen off and was looking at the door.

"Hey, get up."

Meg shook her head.

"Turney. Lindsay's here."

"I know."

Gavin frowned, wondering what had gotten into his girlfriend. Before he had a chance to ask, there was a knock on the door.

"It's open!" Meg called.

Her hand squeezed Gavin's thigh. He started to object, but quickly realized she wasn't trying to rise out of him. Everything about his girlfriend's posture - how she was leaning, her controlled, deep breaths, her unwavering gaze - had her ready to race to the door; that hand was the only thing keeping her anchored. Meg wasn't on his lap just to keep him from moving; it was for her own sake as well.

Gavin took a long breath to cover the shiver that passed down his spine.

His hand reached over her lap to cover her hand comfortingly. She jolted in place, startled, and pulled her eyes away from the door to cast him a quick smile.

The door popped open slowly, just far enough for Lindsay's face to peek in and scan the room for the two of them.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Lindsay teased, though her voice cracked when she tried to laugh. She cleared her throat, giving them both another glance before eagerly taking Penny sniffing at her shoes as a distraction.

"We were just waiting for you," Gavin said, craning his head to try and see over the back of the couch to where Lindsay was crouched with the dog.

"Sorry about that," Lindsay answered, dropping her bag and scooping up Penny before standing up to close the door. She locked it with her free hand, kicking off her shoes and slowly making her way around to in front of the couch.

"It's okay," Gavin assured her.

Meg was still quiet. Gavin pressed his face into her shoulder, trying to gently nudge her into the conversation.

For a moment Lindsay stood in front of the couch, staring absentmindedly at the TV. Then the show went to commercial break, seemingly snapping her out of her daze and prompting her to look back at the others.

Gavin hadn't stopped looking at her the whole time. Meg hadn't looked at any one place for more than a few seconds.

"So," Lindsay ventured.

"So," Meg answered, swaying in place. Her phone screen had gone dark when Lindsay arrived, coming back on only for her to instinctively glance at the time, but hadn't left her grip yet, and her hand had left Gavin's thigh to play with the edge of the case.

Lindsay looked each of them in the eye in turn, then followed a nod from Gavin to the empty stretch of couch beside them.

She glanced around, then backed up to sink into their giant beanbag instead.

"So?" Gavin asked in what he hoped was a less strained tone than the girls had carried. He was confused by the sudden, obvious tension, wondering why they seemed guarded and almost upset with each other. Hadn't they both been eager to spend the evening together just a few hours before? Hadn't Lindsay talked - well, texted - about wanting to make up for the time they'd wasted that weekend? It was no secret they enjoyed each others' touch as much as they did their company, and Lindsay had already said earlier that Michael not being around was no longer a hangup, so what had he missed that had them so nervous about doing the same thing they'd been doing for months?

Lindsay took another deep breath to steady herself. "So. You talked to Michael," she said.

Gavin blinked. "Yes?"

Lindsay blinked back. "I meant Meg, but do tell."

 _Oh_. Oh _shit_.

"I just called to see how he was doing, really," he said quickly. It wasn't a lie; in the end, that's all that he'd talked to Michael about. What he'd _intended_ to talk about was a whole different matter, but he'd been in the car with Adam and that was not at all the time to say, _"Hey, so, am I allowed to snog your wife tonight or is that something I should wait on until you're here to observe?"_

Actually, he wasn't sure if there was a time to say it. He was, on the other hand, sure that a minimum of two parties involved in the situation were down for it, and he was reaching a point where if Lindsay confirmed she was also on that list, Michael's vote would be irrelevant in his mind.

Well, maybe not irrelevant. He wouldn't have called him if it was irrelevant to him. As fond as he was getting of this concept of "outvoted", he figured that was pushing the limits.

He realized suddenly that Lindsay was still staring at him, one eyebrow raised, and that getting lost in thought had done nothing to convince either of them of his lie by omission.

"...What?" he asked, glancing between the two women and their skeptical expressions.

"Nevermind," Lindsay said with a sigh.

"Alright," he muttered, doing his best to hide his victorious smile behind Meg's shoulder.

Lindsay looked back to Meg, who just nodded. "I talked to him before he even left town."

"So you planned to-"

"We don't plan anything around here, do we?"

Lindsay stopped dead, face blank.

Then she started laughing so hysterically that Penny jumped up and ran off in alarm, barking at her from the other side of the room.

"No, no we don't. We really don't," Lindsay managed between laughs. "All of this is just four solid months of not thinking shit through."

Meg made a face like she wanted to agree with Lindsay's meaning but not her phrasing.

"Be that as it may," she sighed, her smile strained from the mix of emotion, "yes, I spoke to him before he even left town. Because I know what our track record is like," she explained.

Lindsay nodded slowly.

"And to be honest, I didn't really want to go two whole weeks without kissing the shit out of you."

"The feeling is mutual, I assure you," Lindsay answered, managing to only turn a little red.

Gavin wrapped his arms around Meg's waist tightly, snuggling into her shoulder tighter and just listening intently. He didn't have much to add, especially not when there was clearly something left to be said yet between the two of them.

"So he said he was cool with it, right?"

Meg blinked. "...You didn't ask him yourself?"

"I- no, not exactly."

"Oh my god, _Lindsay_."

"What?! I was going to, but I just…"

"After all your gung-ho earlier?"

"I was caught up in the moment!"

"Exactly! And Michael _doesn't care_."

Lindsay exhaled hard and held her lack of breath.

"He told me it's up to you. _He's_ the one who said 'we never plan anything' to begin with."

Dead silence.

Gavin let himself stare past Lindsay and out the window, suddenly feeling like he should have left the room for the discussion. Was that what Michael's response to him would have been, too? That he didn't care, that it was up to her? Between the tense silence and his own uncertainty, Gavin suddenly felt sheepish that he'd even thought asking _Michael_ made sense.

"Oh," Lindsay said finally, then flopped backwards on the beanbag to sprawl limply. She clapped a hand over her eyes, breathing slowly but loudly as she let her brain process everything. "Sorry. I guess I just still don't know how to really work with any of this."

"That makes all of us," Gavin offered.

"We can back off or slow down or whatever else, if that's what you want," Meg explained.

"I don't," Lindsay answered quickly. "...Do you?"

"I want us to stop being weird around each other," Meg pleaded, leaning forward. "And things _haven't_ been weird, until suddenly this week they were. I just want whatever changed to change back," she sighed.

Lindsay just nodded slowly.

"I spent a lot of the weekend thinking that, well," she took a deep breath, letting her elbows rest on her knees, "that maybe this meant you really were in it for Michael's reaction. Which, if that's true, that's okay, that's what the rules were for. But then this morning happened, and I thought that had cleared things up. Then you send me that text, and here we are again."

"Sorry but, what text?" Gavin asked.

"She was texting me from the driveway while she was on the phone with Michael," Meg explained, reaching down to unlock her phone.

  
  
  


Gavin stared at the phone skeptically, then looked between the two girls. "This is what you've been dancing in circles over for the last ten minutes?" he asked.

They glanced at each other nervously.

"You're both completely daft, I hope you realize that."

Lindsay re-covered her eyes. Meg sighed, slumping sideways into Gavin's chest.

"Clearly the reason you both want to snog so badly is that it's good fun. That and we've all gotten into the habit, and habits aren't the easiest of things to break."

Meg found one of his hands to squeeze it softly, taking a moment to think.

"I hate to say it," Lindsay said, still not looking, "but I think Gavin's the voice of reason here."

Meg smiled softly at the half-compliment, then chuckled. "Or he just wants to watch us make out."

He made a strangled noise but managed to maintain his composure. "Honestly I'd rather watch you wash bread than keep going in this dumb circle. If you two never kissing again means I don't have to hear any of us try and find logic in it, I'm all for it."

Meg laughed a little louder. "Explain that decision to a cave man."

"Christ no," he answered. "Then I'd have to admit to him that the reason I haven't thwacked you _both_ with a club and dragged you back to my cave is because Lindsay would hit first and use me as a toothpick."

"Don't tempt me," Lindsay joked.

They all laughed, the sound a mix of tired and strained.

"To get back to the original point though," Meg said, straightening back up slowly, "yes. I talked with Michael last week, and he said that it was up to you."

"Okay."

They sat in silence for another moment, Meg grateful for the slight jittering of Gavin's leg as it covered her own.

"...I'm sorry," Lindsay muttered, looking away suddenly. "I'm. I want to come over there and kiss you right now _so bad_ , it's just. Awkward, since we've been talking about it so much?"

"We could grab some dinner first?" Meg offered.

Lindsay put on her best thinking face, trying to lighten the mood again. "Yeah, but then I'll just be thinking about it the whole time, and by the time we get home I'll have performance anxiety, then I won't be able to get it up, and it'll just be awkward for everyone."

"That's okay," Meg countered, "you can bottom this time."

Lindsay laughed. "Oh _baby_."

She stopped laughing when Meg stood up.

Meg took her time crossing the room. Her fingers slipped out of Gavin's hand as she left his arm's reach, a glance over her shoulder and a motion of that hand telling him to stay seated for now. She didn't miss the way Lindsay's breath caught when she got near, so she stepped past first, closing the blinds; it was still just barely light out, and the beanbag Lindsay was on was only feet from the front window.

"Hey," Lindsay croaked as Meg stopped at her feet, hands gripped tight to the fabric of the bean chair. "Come here often?"

She sat board stiff as Meg leaned down in front of her, climbing onto the beanbag one knee at a time, leaving her sitting on the younger girl's lap.

"Hi," she whispered back, reaching up to trace two fingers down Lindsay's arm. "Sure do."

Lindsay stared back at her, eyes never still for more than an instant, darting across the details of Meg's face and even occasionally across the room to Gavin, who was still sitting obediently on the couch.

She swallowed hard.

Meg's fingers reached her wrist. She felt Lindsay's hand give a twitch beneath her and pinched the back gently. Lindsay let her hand roll over instinctively, expecting to have her friend's fingers twine with hers. Instead, Meg's nails grazed the underside of her wrist and then began tracing the lines of her palm.

Lindsay snapped.

Her hand pulled free from beneath Meg's, grabbing for her cheeks, dragging her to her lips and kissing her like her life depended on it.

It was different than the morning had been – just as harried, even more desperate, but a whole different set of sensations lined it. There was nothing to limit them here, no co-workers to accidentally walk in on them, no concerns that they were breaking rules, no doubts about intent. Just each other, and Gavin if they all so wished, with a week of time to make up for.

Meg laughed, the sound muffled as Lindsay refused to let go of her for even an instant. She wrapped her arms loosely around the younger girl's neck, more than happy to hold on tight and enjoy the attention. Once she was satisfied that Meg wasn't keen on escaping, Lindsay let her hands drop, resting them on her waist instead, pulling her as close on her lap as the beanbag would allow.

The next minute saw them flopped backwards on the seat, Lindsay's arms locking Meg down to her. Meg shifted her hands from behind Lindsay's neck to stroke through her hair instead, her elbows resting on either side of her head to give her some control of their kissing. It was control that Lindsay was happy to surrender, her lips and tongue moving to match her friend's motions.

Meg's fingers traced their way down Lindsay's jaw. Her nails gently followed all the lines of her neck that she liked to run her tongue along, making Lindsay shiver with anticipation as she recognized the patterns.

Her own hands started to rub the smaller girl's back, sliding along the ridges of muscle along her spine. She found herself playing with the edge of Meg's shirt where it had bunched up at the small of her back, smoothing the fabric back out on some strokes and tickling the inch of exposed skin on others. She could feel the corners of Meg's mouth twitch up every time her fingers found that stretch of her back, though she wasn't sure yet if it was meant as encouragement or simply because it tickled.

When Meg finally came up for air, they were both smiling uncontrollably, Lindsay unable to help but laugh as she looked up at the girl above her. "This is so dumb," she said, baffled.

"This is so _fun_ ," Meg corrected her, pressing a single kiss to her lips.

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly. "But also kinda dumb."

Meg rolled her eyes.

"You mean kinda hot," she suggested, leaning down again so that Lindsay could feel the air from Meg's words against her lips.

"Well, _yeah_ ," she whispered back, tilting her head to steal another kiss. "Both, really."

Meg laughed, knowing this was an argument she neither was going to nor cared enough to win. Instead she pushed Lindsay further into the beanbag chair by the lips, nudging them apart with her own to kiss her more deeply. Lindsay was happy to oblige, nipping softly at Meg's lower lip then coaxing Meg's tongue in with her own.

Lindsay's hands drifted aimlessly along her friend's back, eventually resting at the sides of her hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles on her exposed skin. As Meg's kisses grew more aggressive, Lindsay's hands chanced downward, taking firm hold of the older girl's rear. She quickly decided to excuse her wandering hands by dragging Meg upward by her hold on her ass, until Meg was almost having to tilt her chin down to reach Lindsay's lips. In that time Meg hadn't stopped her or directed her grip away though, so she kept her hands there, squeezing firmly and pressing Meg's hips down toward her own.

A strangled whimper hit the air, but it wasn't from Meg. Instead, both girls found themselves glancing backwards at Gavin, who had such a tight hold on the couch that his knuckles had gone white.

Meg laughed, patting the chair beside them and giving a quick nod toward it. "C'mere, Gavino."

Gavin moved to stand up, pausing for a split second with his hands pushing him off the couch, like he forgot to plan where he was going before actually standing.

Meg sat up as he approached, straddling Lindsay's waist and reaching for Gavin before he had even sat down. One hand grabbed his shoulder, the other brushing at his hairline as she dragged him down into a kiss. He stumbled as he kissed back, half falling onto the free half the beanbag. The hand at his hair fell away, reaching instead to hold onto Lindsay for balance.

Gavin's fingers drifted along his girlfriend's face and arm familiarly as they shared several long kisses. He was turned sideways, propped on one elbow to let them snog without her climbing off of Lindsay, even if he did already instinctively wanted to just push her down and kiss every inch of her. He compromised by pulling from her lips to kiss down her neck instead, lips rubbing wetly to the crook of her neck and making her gasp louder than she had with his mouth muffling her.

Then Lindsay had her attention again - he could only assume she'd squeezed Meg's ass, or else Meg had just let her focus shift on her own. She let go of Gavin's shirt carefully, bowing her head to kiss Lindsay once more. It didn't take long for Lindsay to follow Gavin's lead, reaching up and gently guiding Meg's head to the side by her hair, exposing her neck for the gentle, almost teasing passes of her tongue and teeth.

Gavin let himself lay flat on the chair, pressed as far into it as possible, trying to get an angle where he could see the girls' necking instead of just hear it. He stroked Meg's back as they continued, his fingers tracing her spine, sometimes venturing just low enough to brush at Lindsay's thumb where her closer hand was still holding onto Meg's hip.

Then Lindsay let out a moan as Meg's hand found its way under her shirt, wasting no time in cupping her breast through her bra and squeezing pointedly. Meg continued, quickly making Lindsay lose her focus and forget to keep lapping at Meg's neck.

Their lips met again for a moment, both girls moaning in a way that made Gavin shiver, first from surprise at their intensity, then over feeling almost voyeuristic, like he was intruding on them.

Then Meg's face disappeared behind Lindsay's jaw and he could only guess at what her lips and hand were doing from the ways Lindsay's mouth contorted and her eyes squeezed shut.

Gavin felt his own mouth hanging open as he watched her face. His mind was in a hundred places at once - was that how he looked when Meg had her way with him? Was this testament to Meg being as good at this as he thought she was, or was Lindsay simply as sensitive as him? (Lindsay being anything but thick skinned seemed impossible to him.) Why did he not feel the same threads of jealousy at watching them that Michael always spoke of? Was Lindsay always this hot when she was moaning, and if so, how had it taken him this many months to notice?

What would happen if he just leaned over and-

Gavin closed his eyes, tearing his gaze from the shimmer of Lindsay's open lips just as her tongue passed across them again, and clung for dear life to a handful of Meg's shirt.

He felt her still under his hand, then rise upwards, and by the time he opened his eyes to look up at her, the fabric had been pulled free from his hand.

And had landed halfway across the room.

"Meg," he rasped, voice gone as he drank in the sight of his shirtless girlfriend sitting atop their friend. She still had her bra on, but it was all sheer and lace, leaving little to the imagination. He'd seen her like this countless times and yet it was different from this angle, watching her poised above someone else instead, seeing that fire in her eyes pointed elsewhere, even if she did take a moment to cast a smile his way as well.

She wasn't shy at all about reaching for Lindsay's hand and guiding it to her chest, holding it there by the wrist until Lindsay's eyes calmed from startled and wide to the first inkling of a smirk. "Tit for tat, eh?" the younger girl joked as Meg's hand slid down her arm to return to Lindsay's own, far more covered breasts.

"Shhh," Meg answered, leaning into Lindsay's eagerly kneading hand.

Lindsay just chuckled, blowing out a hot breath as Meg's lips grew close to hers again. Their lips had barely met when Lindsay's chuckle turned into a giggle, which in turn caused her to turn her face away since the slight tickle of Meg's breath was only making her laugh all the harder.

"You okay?" she asked, her hand stilling.

"Yeah," Lindsay squeaked. "I just. Pffft. Tit for tat. _Tits for tatas,_ " she said, nearly choking on her own giggles.

Meg snorted, her head falling against Lindsay's shoulder as she, too, fell into a fit of laughter. "Oh my god," she mumbled, shaking her head. "Barb is going to pay for this somehow, I swear," she added, though she was unable to even try to sound angry.

Lindsay managed to suppress her giggles long enough to wrap her free hand over Meg's shoulder. "Or, I could just pick up the tab?" she offered, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the laughter at bay.

"Oh?" Meg asked, leaning back up a bit to look Lindsay in the eye.

Lindsay smirked back at her, casting a glance at Gavin before tilting her head up to press her nose to Meg's. "Why not?"

Their lips meshed together once more, Lindsay's head resting back to the chair as their kiss quickly regained its former ferocity. The younger girl's habit of interjecting jokes at the strangest of times didn't even faze Meg; it was something she was already quite used to from Gavin, and she'd learned even before him that rather than letting it distract her and ruin the mood, laughter could make anything feel better, bringing an extra dose of happiness to something already wonderful.

It was hard for Meg not to shiver under the combined sensations of the hands touching her. One of Lindsay's hands was rubbing at her shoulder, near her spine, holding their faces close together, while the other squeezed at the breast she'd placed it on, causing her to groan into her friend's mouth. Gavin's fingers were tracing the slight dips between her ribs where arching her back had pulled the muscles tight over them, his touch lazy and familiar as it teased the hem of her bra. His lips kept finding the side of her arm, clearly eager to have any stretch of her to pay attention to her, and as wonderful as Lindsay's kisses were, Meg felt her desires split between them.

She was expecting Gavin to roll over and climb atop her any time, or for him to drag her off Lindsay and pull her back flush to his stomach. Either way, each flutter of his fingers up her back seemed like a prelude to his lips on her neck and his hardness grinding against her, and every breath was spent formulating ways to get that from him without letting go of Lindsay. She'd fought hard to not have the younger girl run away, and she knew the moment things got too heavy she'd probably excuse herself. That was a moment she wanted to postpone as long as possible.

It didn't hurt that Lindsay was already worlds better at finding the right ways to play with her breasts, but that she mostly credited - from experience - to others with breasts understanding that nipples weren't the only things that wanted attention.

(On the other hand, she'd gotten to watch Michael toy with Lindsay one afternoon a few weeks back; "well-trained" was the only term Meg's now-famished curiosity could come up with to describe what she'd witnessed.)

(Maybe Gavin would be receptive to lessons. She was sure the others could find something to learn from him, too.)

After more deliberation than she cared to deal with while Lindsay's teeth were nipping at her neck, Meg finally rolled off her toward Gavin, pinning one of his arms under her in the process. She grabbed Lindsay by the shirt, tugging her close again. Lindsay rolled over eagerly, and before Meg could even finish settling, the younger girl's lips had already returned to her neck.

Meg whimpered an encouraging "yes" as two opposing hands grazed the soft skin of her exposed side.

Meg found every excuse possible to touch them both wherever she could. She twisted backwards to share a passionate kiss with Gavin while Lindsay's tongue left damp trails along her collarbone. Her hand found Lindsay's ass in retaliation for before and hauled her closer, until Meg had to bend one leg to let it rest over her friend's thigh. With that leg holding Lindsay to her, Meg let go, reaching back to touch Gavin instead. She wrapped her arm over him and taking ahold of his hip by the back of his jeans to encourage him to keep just as close.

She felt their hands collide occasionally, and the pauses as they glanced at each other before resuming their plans. They weren't competing for her attention, and for that much Meg was grateful in more ways than one, but they also weren't truly cooperating, their motions uncoordinated. There had been other days where they'd managed to work together better, but they'd been solely focused on her those days. Tonight, there were moments - just the briefest instants, really - where they were distracted by each other's' presence, their eyes locking briefly, their hands slowing as they passed each other to give a deliberate touch to one another before returning to Meg.

The next few minutes found them both joining Meg in toplessness. Lindsay had been last, sitting up suddenly, arms already crossed over her chest and gripping the edges of her shirt by the time she registered Gavin was still there.

"It's okay," Gavin had mumbled when he processed the situation, "we've gone to the pool often enough." Sensing her continued hesitation, he'd pulled his shirt off in a hurry and laid back down to hide his face in Meg's hair. "All clear," he'd called up, voice muffled into his girlfriend's back.

Meg laughed as she twisted to kiss him straight on, distracting him while Lindsay made up her mind to launch her shirt into the pile theirs had formed on the couch.

When Lindsay laid back down she was greeted enthusiastically by Meg's hands, though she had to wait in line for more than a second's worth of kiss because Gavin wasn't willing to give up his turn so easily.

It didn't take long for Meg to get too distracted to remember to keep returning Lindsay's attention to her breasts, or frankly, how to kiss at her neck coherently. Her only attention to her friend's skin, paid whenever Lindsay had to pull back from her kisses for air, was a sloppy trail of desperate licks along her throat. That was still enough to make Lindsay's job hard for her; her mouth was too far from any logical perch, leaving her to chew at her lip as her only means of keeping focused.

Gavin still had ahold of Meg from behind, his knuckles bumping against the padded satin of Lindsay's bra while he played with his girlfriend's breasts. His grinding on her had become almost shameless, his pulse pounding from the memory of the previous morning's dream and the conversations that had followed. He knew some of the fire in his veins was adrenaline from the fear this would end as a dream as well, but at the same time, he felt that knowing it could be ruled out the option. He pushed the worry back out of his mind, distracting himself from it by toying with Meg's bra strap with his teeth.

Lindsay's face came to rest on Meg's, cheek to cheek, her breath hot against Meg's ear. She could feel Meg panting for breath against her shoulder, peppered by happy, near-silent laughter, and it made her grin uncontrollably. All the week's hesitation seemed ridiculous with that happy sound in her ear.

She opened her eyes to see Gavin on the other side of Meg, catching his breath a moment, his smile just as wide.

Their eyes caught as Lindsay's wandering hands brushed over his forearm, but this time, she didn't hurry her fingers back to Meg. She gave his arm a firm squeeze, flashing him a smirk.

His eyes widened, fear shining in them for a moment, before he took better stock of their situation and just grinned back.

It was Lindsay who leaned forward first, pushing Meg with her, until the smaller woman was sandwiched flat between them. She gave a squeak at being squished, but clung tighter to Lindsay, holding her breath as she realized what was happening beside her.

Gavin didn't move to meet Lindsay so much as he just left his face within her reach. Another surge of memories from the previous day's dream left him too nerve wracked to actually act on it, but with her face so close, kissing Lindsay suddenly seemed inevitable.

And so when their lips met, it was the barest of presses, Lindsay's neck stretched to reach Gavin over Meg's shoulder, Gavin momentarily motionless as he took in the sensation of yet another new set of lips against his.

Somehow, Meg laughing in their ears seemed more appropriate than either could have imagined.

Gavin finally leaned forward, reaching over Meg's shoulder to return Lindsay's kiss. He was surprised to feel a laugh flicker across her lips before her fingers tightened around his arm, pulling him gently toward her.

Meg twisted between them, finding Lindsay's cheek to press a kiss there as she tried to find room to move. Lindsay gave a questioning noise in response, lips not leaving Gavin's. So Meg twisted herself around further, trying to burrow into the beanbag to give herself room to move. She accidentally shouldered Gavin hard enough in the process that he pulled back from Lindsay finally.

His eyes blinked open slowly, like he was in a daze.

"...Christ," he said, voice low and distant, his eyes suddenly open shockingly wide.

"Right?" Lindsay answered, followed by a single breathy laugh.

"We should have done that ages ago."

"Fuck yes," she agreed, laughing again.

Their faces were mirror images, matching lopsided grins adorning both. Their eyes darted between each other's lips and eyes, both waiting for the other to move again for what they both knew was only seconds, but was more than long enough for Meg to roll her eyes at them.

"Dorks," she mumbled as she turned to press a kiss to Gavin's cheek, settling flat on her back between them.

He snapped out of it, giving a noise of objection before returning the kiss, having to follow her face as she leaned to kiss Lindsay's cheek again. Lindsay caught her halfway, the corners of their mouths pressing together and their noses rubbing softly.

Meg couldn't see Gavin with Lindsay's face filling her peripheral, but she could still feel him hovering just beside her ear, and she heard Lindsay's breath go shallow as their kiss slipped past one another's cheeks, leaving her face to face with Gavin once more.

Then Lindsay was propped up on one elbow, her other hand reaching over to hold Gavin gently by the hair as their lips met again, leaving Meg with a front row seat for their second kiss.

For all of Gavin's snark, Michael's bark, and Meg's casual dominance, Lindsay was the feistiest of them all, a fact which only briefly caught Gavin off guard. He tried his best to keep one hand on Lindsay's cheek but quickly had to let go in favor of keeping his balance as she pushed forward harder. His other arm was still claimed as Meg's pillow, trapped under her and now a bit under Lindsay as well as she leaned across her and started to push Gavin down.

He'd still hardly even kissed Michael this deeply, for a few seconds at most, but Lindsay was being far from shy about letting her tongue play with his. She was still considerably less bitey than her husband - he'd say she was going easy on him, but he'd watched her and Meg too intently too often. It was easy to just let her take command and follow her lead. She required no prompting, and instead seemed to be spending all her pent up curiosity in one go.

That was fine with him, as he had little idea what he even wanted to do. He'd spent too many months stifling even the smallest thought of kissing Lindsay that had crossed his mind, from that first time it had crossed his mind when her lips had brushed his shoulder until her fingers had tightened on his hair for that tense moment the morning before. It felt completely natural to just follow her lead and see where he could make the mischief she started even better.

Gavin's head had almost reached the chair when he felt Meg's nails brush through his hair, prompting him to open his eyes to glance over at her. She was smirking, her eyebrow raised knowingly. This close he could see where her lipstick had worn off and he briefly wondered how much of that was on Lindsay. But that was just a distraction - there was something familiar about the look she was giving him, besides just the lust he knew well.

He pulled free from Lindsay's lips for breath, pushed forward again to steal another kiss before she could push him all the way down, forced himself to think for a moment instead of just losing himself in the moment.

The previous morning. She'd given him the same look when he'd come back upstairs the previous morning.

As he'd laid back down from locking the door behind Lindsay, he'd noticed Meg smirking at him, eyes still shut in an imitation of sleep.

"Well good morning," she'd chuckled once he was back under the blanket, "where've you been? Off making out with the lovely Mrs Jones?"

"What?" Gavin blinked, feeling his face go hot at the mere suggestion as he tried to push back down all memory of the dream he'd had once and for all. "Ah no she's gone home."

Meg giggled, scooting closer to draw an arm over him and kiss him on the nose. "That's too bad," she teased.

He took a deep breath; it was too early in the morning to try and make proper sense of what she'd said. There were just too many options. So he just let the question fall off into silence instead, returning her kiss and letting his eyes drift shut as Meg snuggled into his chest.

Except he couldn't get the question out of his mind.

"Would you like that?" he said finally, holding her a little tighter as a mental apology for the way even asking effected him.

Meg gave a sleepy sigh, her voice carrying an amused lilt as she squeezed him back. "Like what?"

Well, he'd already gone and kept her from falling back asleep, there was no point in dancing around the question now. "Like it if Lindsay and I _had_ snogged. If we did do it."

Meg laughed softly out her nose, tilting her head up to kiss his jaw. "While I was asleep?"

"Whenever."

"Is this a confession or a question?"

"Purely hypothetical."

"Mmmmmm," she hummed, rolling onto her back so she could look over at him. "Yeah. I think It'd be fun."

"Yeah?" he asked, heart suddenly pounding too hard to form more detailed thoughts.

"Kissing Michael was fun."

Gavin covered a hot breath with the back of his wrist, reaching out with the other hand to rest his hand over Meg's on her stomach. "It looked like it was."

"You'd know," she teased.

"Well. I guess so."

Meg's sleepy smile grew into a knowing smirk. "Was watching us fun?"

His voice softened. "...God yes"

Her smirk widened, head turning to the side to look back over at him directly. "Y'know what I think would be even better though?"

"What?"

Her voice fell to a husky whisper, the familiar tone of which distracted him so much he nearly missed her actual words. "Kissing both of you boys at the same time."

Gavin's brain hit a wall trying to process her meaning. "I- what?"

"You don't think so?"

"I- I don't know. I mean. Probably?" He flopped on to his back, overwhelmed. "It just- it isn't something I've exactly thought about before," he added. He turned his head to look at her, holding his hands up near his face and glancing between them. "Do you mean like…" Slowly he moved his hands to his mouth, thumbs and bent finger formed together to form a puppet shape, and motioned like he was kissing them both in a triangle shape.

Meg let out a sigh that might as well have been a purr, humming her confirmation. "Mmhmmm."

Gavin's eyebrows raised as he processed the idea, hands brushing unconsciously against his lips before falling away to clasp together over his chest.

"Oh," he managed, the daze further clouding his mind as he stared into space. Meg and Michael? At the same time? Should he be annoyed that she was so keen on kissing his best friend again, or unsurprised since she'd suggested he kiss hers? More importantly, how did he redirect enough of his blood flow back above the waist to even think about it properly?

He felt Meg's fingers comb through his hair, her voice growing closer as she scooted up to him, until he could feel her breath on his ear while she spoke. "Or," she whispered, nails skimming his neck and collar, "what about if I kissed both you and Lindsay at once?"

He'd been incredibly glad that she'd kissed him rather than making him come up with an answer on the spot.

But now he needed an answer.

Now her face was centered beneath his and Lindsay's, where he was learning how to match her aggressive style of snogging and still keep track of his hands at the same time. Meg had reached under him to play with his hair, and he thought her soft moans were just in admiration of the show in front of her until a glance down made him realize Lindsay's hand had fallen from him back to his girlfriend's chest.

He pulled back from Lindsay's lips again, mind swimming from the concentration of remembering Meg's words. It seemed right somehow, though.

He nudged Lindsay with his forehead, prompting her to open her eyes and mumble a "hmm?". He gave a tiny nod toward Meg and was met with a grin. Lindsay playfully nipped at his cheek - he squawked instinctively, startled by her rougher brand of affection - before diving straight for Meg's neck, her tongue giving only the briefest warning before her teeth grazed the older girl's skin.

Meg arched off the chair at the attention, stomach rising to meet Gavin's hand as he returned it to her skin then began trailing it up her ribs. His face hovered above hers as his fingers inched under the edge of her bra. She moaned when his thumb brushed across the peak, a noise that he echoed on instinct alone before his lips sank to hers.

Lindsay echoing them in turn, voice muffled against Meg's skin, was a sound he was unprepared for. It sent a shiver through him, making his hand hesitate - at least until Meg's hand wrapped around his wrist and pressed his palm more insistently against her breast.

However strangely natural kissing Lindsay had seemed, Meg's lips remained far more familiar. There was no guesswork to it, just a year and a half's worth of routine, until Gavin even knew how to bring his favorite cheeky little giggle out of her by sucking just so on her lower lip.

He felt that laugh turn into a gasp, a hard pop following as Lindsay's lips pulled free from Meg's shoulder. Her tongue lapped at the pattern of red pinpricks that would inevitably leave a hickey on Meg's collarbone for days, lavishing the tender skin with attention until Meg squeaked out a moan against Gavin's lips.

It was getting harder to control his breathing. Meg's skin was too warm where his stomach was pressed to her side, too soft where his wandering hands had pulled her breast completely free of her bra, and Lindsay was too close where their shoulders bumped any time either of them moved, her toes tangled into his jeans where her leg was draped across Meg's. His eyes darted to Lindsay between kisses, wondering how to draw her attention back up to fulfill Meg's suggestion before he lost too much patience for anything that complicated.

His lips were on Lindsay's jaw before he was sure what he was doing.

Her reactions were something Gavin would have to get used to (he'd already accepted this was going to happen again, and then some). Where Meg was squeaks and high moans and squirms, and Michael was stifled noises he refused to let out and shaky breaths, Lindsay was uncensored, full of purrs and moans of all octaves, laced with her standard colorful vocabulary. His lips on the crook between her jaw and ear produced a breathy _fuck_ , distracting her from her attention to Meg's neck. He leaned further, stealing back her lips, and was surprised at how easily she followed along when he tilted away again.

But any time he'd draw near to Meg's face, Lindsay would duck away again.

It was finally occurring to him that three way kisses might be as foreign of a concept to Lindsay as they had been to him, and so simply trying to get their lips in the same place at the same time without explanation wasn't going to work, when he felt thin fingers lace into his hair.

Meg was surprisingly gentle as she guided them both to her lips at once, given her haste in doing so.

It wasn't as world-shatteringly hot as he'd hoped for, but he certainly wasn't complaining, either. It was hard to know where to turn his attention. One set of lips opened wetly against his while the other tugged softly at his lips with hers. Both girls' tongues met amidst the shared heat of their breath, only to vanish before he had a chance to join, then return one at a time, but never both. It was a giant tease, but then, he found himself toying with them back, his kisses faster than usual to keep up with how different the two girls were.

Lindsay's hand snaked its way up Gavin's arm, squeezing tightly each time she drew a breath. By the time it reached his back, she was half atop Meg, pinning his hand between their chests. The feeling of her hand on his bare back was strange - not entirely alien, as they'd had their fair share of hugs and wrestling matches at the pool, but skin cooled by water was so much different than this. Her fingers tucked along the edge of his shoulder blade easily, hugging him tightly and almost pulling him closer by it.

Gavin let himself press flush to Meg's side, hooking his leg over hers to be as close as possible. She gasped beneath them, head rolling back out of range of either his or Lindsay's lips, and gave a delighted hum as her back arched underneath them.

Gavin groaned at the rough contact, pulling his lips away from Lindsay's as he had to bite his tongue. He buried his face against Meg's neck, breathing hard and trying to collect his thoughts. He felt her twist under him and heard them both sigh as she and Lindsay resumed making out one-on-one. Lindsay's hand squeezed at his back, sending a shiver down his spine.

He rubbed his lips to his girlfriend's neck, the kiss firm but almost chaste compared to whirlwind of the last few minutes. He wanted to kiss her all over, already mentally travelling down to the breast trapped beneath his chest, but wasn't sure where the line was with Lindsay there. When they were all there, he knew the line because Michael would tell them it, dragging Lindsay off while she shrieked with laughter.

He was growing desperate, and from the way Meg was moving under them, so was she. Gavin wanted nothing more than to whisk her away and let his lips wander to his heart's content, though not before removing the jeans that had been too tight for a while now.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a sudden heat on his neck. Lindsay's arm pressed into him for balance as she twisted to kiss at his exposed skin. It was an awkward reach, and Meg was giggling beneath them from the absurdity of it, but Gavin was unable to do much besides muffle a groan against her shoulder, his mouth agape from the sensation. Michael was none too shy about marking his territory, but Lindsay was showing no restraint at all, giving his neck only a single, sloppy kiss as warning before latching on, sucking at Gavin's skin just past the point of pain. And yet, somehow he didn't quite object to the feeling, either, like she'd perfected the art of straddling that line.

He gasped when she pulled free, then whimpered when she gave his skin the same lick he'd watched her give Meg earlier.

Meg giggled knowingly at his reaction, her fingers drawing little circles on his scalp.

Gavin turned to lunge at Lindsay's lips, revenge on his mind - playful revenge, but revenge none the less. She was laughing as he kissed her, he could tell from how her lips twitched against his, then laughing audibly as his balance wavered and he had to quickly get his arm out from under Meg's head to steady himself and avoid falling flat on Meg's face. He nipped at her lips, only for her to tilt her head and lock their lips together, turning the instant of spite back into a flash of passion that left her nails digging lightly into his back.

Meg kissed his cheek and he turned to kiss her again, then Lindsay again, then Meg again only for Lindsay to nip at his ear, leaving him snapping her name in mock-annoyance before leaving his own gentle bite on her shoulder. They were all smiling, chuckles and soft moans blending into each other as they exchanged kisses, occasionally all meeting in the center for brief moments that left them bumping noses but were still invigorating. Everything felt right, and it was only the fatigue setting in in the arm propping him up that made Gavin wonder what had taken them so long to arrive at this point.

Lindsay's hand had been trailing its way down his spine, leaving more room at their chests for him to resume playing with Meg's breasts, both of which had long since been freed from her bra. Just as their lips drew together again, he felt her hand cross from skin to cloth, running her fingers along the waist of his jeans before hooking her thumb into his back pocket.

For that moment, he forgot himself, instinctively grinding forward against Meg's hips at the feeling of a hand on his ass. He started to pull back from Lindsay's lips, smirking, but then felt his eyes flare wide as he was greeted by Lindsay's face in front of his.

It seemed to take her a moment to process things as well, the smirk on her face slowly vanishing as her hand remained frozen. From the corner of his eye he saw Meg lean up to kiss Lindsay on the cheek, asking for her turn, then whispering her name when she didn't react.

Slowly, carefully, Lindsay's hand drew back.

He recognized the fear in her eyes too well. Last time they'd exchanged that look, he'd been the one giving it, two months before when the first touch of her lips to his skin had left him panicked they might all wake up in the same bed the next morning.

"I…" she started, her voice barely a whisper. "I should-"

"It's okay," he said, cutting her off. "It's alright. We can stop."

"Stop?" Meg asked, casting them both a worried glance.

"No. No, it's alright," Lindsay insisted. "You don't have to… you two should still be able to…"

"Yes, but you're here."

"I know, which is why I should leave."

"Lindsay," Meg said softly, catching on to their meaning, though without the specific first-hand knowledge Gavin had of the sensation.

"It's okay. This was amazing, really," Lindsay assured them.

"It was, which is why you shouldn't have to leave," Gavin insisted.

Lindsay laughed in disbelief. "I'm not just going to, to fucking cockblock you guys after all that."

"We can wait until later."

"Then we'll just be sitting around all night waiting for me to leave so you two can fuck. It'll be awkward either way. Really, it's okay. I'll feel better knowing you two got to have your fun."

"And I'd feel better knowing you didn't get left out," Gavin said. His eyes still hadn't left her face, even as hers had darted to Meg's in search of support.

"I can handle myself, Gav, I promise."

"I- I could leave you two alone?" he offered, voice almost cracking.

"No!" both girls answered a little too quickly, cheeks turning red and Meg searching for a stretch of wall to stare off at.

"That's- I mean thank you for the offer, but it-" Lindsay mumbled, biting at her lip, "it, it wouldn't be right to Michael."

Gavin gave a single nod, heart skipping a beat as he took in her words. That was her only voiced objection - that it wouldn't be right to Michael. Nothing about not wanting to, nothing about it not being fair to leave Gavin out, only that they still had one line drawn at which playing became cheating, and he felt almost bad for even suggesting she cross it.

"I'm- I liked this, though," she assured them, glancing between the couple. "I wish I'd let myself relax instead of wasting the whole weekend."

Meg pulled her hand out from behind Gavin, reaching up for Lindsay's cheek and guiding her into a chaste kiss. "It's okay," she promised, stroking her cheek with her knuckles before letting go entirely. "We've all been dumb."

Lindsay snorted a quiet laugh. "No shit."

Slowly they untangled themselves and climbed to their feet, Lindsay stumbling over to retrieve her shirt while Meg straightened back out her bra. Gavin was the last to stand, still feeling a bit dazed, everything more than a little surreal as he watched Lindsay get dressed.

"We could go get dinner?" he offered, still grasping at straws.

Lindsay laughed, shaking her head. "No. I should go home and call my husband, and you should give her one hell of a dicking before your remaining testicle decides to mutiny."

Gavin scrunched his face at her words, unsure how to feel about the joke or how comfortable they'd all gotten being well aware of who was fucking and when.

She was still laughing when she hugged him. While that made him settle on laughing too, it made him even less sure if he was supposed to kiss her goodbye or not, even after Meg chased her to the door to give her one while Lindsay was putting her shoes on.

They turned to each other for a hug, Gavin hesitating as he remembered he was still shirtless before squeezing her properly.

"You sure about dinner?" he asked her, quietly as they pulled back, not yet letting go.

She laughed, giving a half hearted eye roll. "I'm sure."

He let her go to gather her things, leaning casually against the wall by the door. Things were too quiet, awkwardly so, but he didn't know what to talk about given the situation.

"...Say, Lindsay," he said, clearing his throat, "mind if we come along to the airport tomorrow?"

She looked up, slight surprise in her eyes, but quickly nodded. "You guys can absolutely come. Well, if you can escape work, at least. I'm sure Michael misses you guys, too."

Gavin grinned. "Excellent."

Lindsay smiled back, collecting another sideways hug from Meg and swinging the door open.

Their gaze lingered too long, indecision rolling around in his chest as she stood in the doorway. He felt like an invisible thread was pulling him toward her, but wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Finally Lindsay looked away, clearing her throat. When she looked back at them, it was with a coy smirk. "You two have fun now, 'kay?" she teased, adding a wink and a growl for emphasis.

"Oh my god," Meg said, dissolving into giggles. "Just go home."

"Fine then, maybe I will!" Lindsay answered exaggeratedly, mock-slamming the door. She cracked it back open long enough to blow a raspberry at them before finally closing the door for real.

"...You think she'll be okay?" Gavin asked once he heard the van start.

Meg wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her face against the back of his shoulder. "I'm surprised you're so worried."

"Well, it's not like I don't care about her too, yeah? It just seems… odd. To snog someone like that and then just let them walk off into the dark."

Meg laughed. "Oh Gavino. She's our friend, not some date you picked up at a bar."

"Exactly."

"Exactly," she repeated, meaning not at all the same thing.

He stood there lost in thought, trailing his fingers along her arms where they crossed his stomach.

"She'll be fine," Meg repeated, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then standing on her toes to reach his ear, "but I won't be if you don't hurry up and get these pants off."

It was hard to be worried with her hand on his junk, and he wasn't about to try.

 

* * *

 

Michael was surprised the next afternoon to find them all waiting for him at baggage claim, instead of coordinating meeting Lindsay at curbside via text. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Gavin at the airport if he didn't have to be, with the possible exception of Ray's first day in Texas.

"They thought it'd be nice to come with and maybe go out to dinner to celebrate you coming back," Lindsay said when she noticed him looking over her shoulder after their first reunited kiss.

"Did they now?" he asked. "What a couple of fucking saps."

"Well, that and Geoff got olives on his pizza at lunch. The whole place smells like week old cat sick," Gavin explained, gagging as much from the memory as for effect.

"Excuses, excuses," Michael answered, pulling Gavin into a one-armed hug by the neck. "You fucking missed me, admit it."

Gavin hooted loud enough as Michael ruffled his hair that half the crowd around turned to look, though the attention dispersed again before he even broke free. "I was going to say yes until all of that," he scoffed, reaching up to re-fluff his hair.

Michael rolled his eyes, turning to greet Meg, who hugged him tight and started to ask him about his trip.

They made conversation while they waited for his luggage to show, gathered in a semi-circle. There'd been no shortage of good banter at FunHaus, but nothing that had made Michael smile quite so continuously as being surrounded by his wife and friends again. Being able to see Lindsay's face when she laughed made the sound so much sweeter, and something about Gavin and Meg being there just made his chest feel all the lighter.

He wasn't going to bring up anything Adam had said though. Not yet, at least.

Gavin recognized his bag before he did, hopping through the crowd to snatch it from the carousel and return with it proudly.

"Don't hurt yourself, that thing probably weighs as much as you do," Michael joked.

"Oh please," Gavin answered, slinging it over his shoulder, "I'm not as weak as you think. I could lift you, if you let me."

Lindsay chimed in for support. "He carried Meg across the house this weekend."

"Did you now?" Michael said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I'm impressed! I take it back, you can take my bag to the car for me then."

"Oh come off it," Gavin sighed, the pride in his face quickly replaced with a theatric pout.

"I'm just playing with you, boi," Michael said, reaching for his bag. "Hand it here."

As Gavin pulled the bag off his shoulder, the strap pulled at his shirt, stretching the collar away from his neck, leaving a very obvious purple mark to catch Michael's eyes.

He grinned as he immediately recognized it, leaning closer.

"Daaaaamn, she got you _good_ , didn't she?" he teased, making sure his voice was plenty suggestive.

"What?"

"That grade-A Mrs. Jones trademark branding on your neck there," he said, nodding toward it.

Gavin squawked in alarm, pulling at his collar to cover it again. "Is it that obvious?!"

He snorted, hiking his bag up on his shoulder. "Couldn't be more if I'd put it there myself."

Michael was quick to fall into step in front of the others, heart pounding as he connected the dots. He was waiting for the rage to come, for him to mind what this meant had happened with him out of town, for the jealousy he'd surely had to push down to tease Gavin and laugh that way to resurface.

But it didn't. Not even as Gavin ran to catch up with him, spouting out a, "Hey, come on boi, what was that supposed to mean?"

He wasn't mad.

And that kind of terrified him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell I'm sorry this took so long. Hopefully it was worth it?
> 
> Thank you everyone for your patience <3


	12. Losing Coordination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can someone please tell someone what's going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. At the end of the day I wound up with a chapter that was nearly 17,000 words long. That just seemed excessive, so I've opted to chop it in two.  
> Don't worry, you aren't going to be waiting two months for the other half. It's already done, just needs editing, and I'm planing to post it up tomorrow after I get home from work.
> 
> Warnings in this chapter and the next for alcohol. Lots of alcohol. So goddamn much of it. Somefuckinghow nothing dubcon came out of it though, so there's that at least? But yeah, be warned in advance.
> 
> Oh, and warning also for the whole calling Geoff dad thing getting worn into the ground. Sorry. I just really love it.
> 
> Thanks again for your patience everyone, I'm not gonna try to make any promises about chapters coming up because I don't know what my schedule's gonna look like, but rest assured I'm going to keep going on this behemoth. I'm too deep in this shit to go back now.

 On Wednesday,Michael took off for lunch with the others - Geoff, Jack, and Gavin specifically, as Ryan had a packed lunch and Ray had vanished with non AH members - hoping to catch up more than their chatter during games had allowed. It had been an exhausting morning, Michael getting there early to record the next day's Rage Quit before the others arrived, and the rest packed with more Minecraft than even Jack knew how to handle.

That left Lindsay at Wendy's having lunch with Meg and Barb, a fairly typical arrangement that none of them minded in the slightest.

Barb and Meg had taken the stool side of the table, leaving Lindsay on the bench seat with their purses, a position she'd taken advantage of to lean back comfortably while she lazily chewed on her spoon between bites of frosty.

"Sounds like Michael really liked LA, then?" Barb asked as she reached for another french fry.

"Yeah, but it's Michael. He'd like it anywhere, so long as he's having fun."

"Then it's good he had fun at the new haus."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, unable to help cracking a smile, while Meg snorted and covered her mouth with her hand.

"You got me that time."

"I always do," Barb grinned. "I just hope he still likes it here better."

"Oh, for sure," Lindsay answered quickly. "I'm sure he'd go back in a heartbeat, and I'd love to go give it a shot too, but I don't think we could ever leave. They'd have to uproot the entirety of Achievement Hunter before either of us would even consider it, and even then…" she shook her head, making a disgusted face at the very notion.

"Good," Meg said, "because I'd miss you too much." She gave Lindsay a soft kick in the shin, barely more than a tap, just to catch her attention. Lindsay cast her a warning pout that made her start giggling. "I'd have to pack myself into your luggage, and that'd just be a mess because I'd have to pack Gavin first, and he wouldn't fit as well as I would."

"Please. I'm not sure that boy actually has any bones in his body. We could roll him up and stuff him in a backpack no sweat. Like one of those sleeping bags."

"No, definitely want a box with packing peanuts for him. If you leave him folded for too long he comes out all creased, not to mention all the yelling while we packed up. Plus if we played our cards right, he'd be so distracted by swimming in the peanuts that he wouldn't realize we were moving until we opened the box back up in LA."

"Sounds like a plan. One we'll hopefully never need to enact, but a plan none the less."

Lindsay's foot rubbed back across Meg's ankle, and Meg caught it between both of hers, holding onto it casually for a minute as they exchanged another grin.

"I'll just drive myself if that happens, not that anyone asked," Barb teased. She glanced between the two redheads, then at the open container of nuggets in the center of the table, where only two remained.

"I'm good," Meg assured her.

"Go for it," Lindsay agreed, reaching to push the box closer and snatch a fry in the process.

"Thanks," Barb said, grabbing one and using it to clean out the remainder of her sauce packet.

"Speaking of Gavin," she said once she was satisfied no more BBQ sauce could be rescued, "dare I ask how he managed to get the 'property of Lindsay' tattoo on his neck?"

Their feet untangled so fast that Lindsay's actually clunked against the seat, prompting her to wince, while Meg started coughing from nearly choking on her drink.

"The _what?_ " Lindsay demanded, leaning on the table and staring Barb down.

Meg glanced between them, wondering if Lindsay was just playing dumb or had actually missed the subject of Barb's innuendo.

Barb laughed, putting on a coy smile. "Oh, you know. The big purple 'Lindsay was here' he's been desperately trying to keep his hood covering for the last three days."

Comprehension flashed across Lindsay's face then, and Meg bit her lip hoping that she wouldn't say anything stupid.

"Oh, that?" Lindsay said, eyes darting to Meg. "Yeah, I've been wondering about that too."

"So you're saying you didn't put it there?"

"God no. It's fucking _Gavin_. I wouldn't touch him like that if you paid me. No offense, Meg."

"Not even to save his life?" Meg asked, trying to divert the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Unfortunately for all of you in the case of an emergency, I don't know CPR."

"I'll make a note to schedule a company-wide training, then," Barb said, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. "But I still don't believe you," she added, her voice melodic.

Lindsay rolled her eyes pointedly. "Look, let's stop pretending Meg's all innocent. We all remember the spanking incident-"

"As if Geoff would let anyone forget."

"-so it's hardly like-"

"As if _Gus_ will let Geoff let anyone forget."

"-giving her boyfriend a hickey the size of Alaska is outside of her capabilities."

Barb laughed, reaching for another fry and taking her time eating it. "I don't doubt she could give him one, but this sure as hell looked like one of yours."

"And what does 'one of mine' look like? You and Michael are hardly ever in the same room. Do you spend _that much_ time looking at pictures of my husband's neck on social media?"

"No, but I'm sure I could put together a whole album from fans' screenshots if you gave me an hour."

"Touche."

Meg almost relaxed, the conversation seemingly over, but then Lindsay couldn't leave well enough alone.

"But seriously. What does 'one of mine' look like?"

Meg kicked her again, and this time it wasn't kindly.

"RWBY season finale party two years ago. You got horribly drunk and decided my arm was a chew toy."

Lindsay nodded, vaguely recalling the night.

"And I had a bruise in exactly the shape and size of your mouth right here for over a week," Barb explained, tapping halfway up her forearm. "A whole damn week, Lindsay. I had plenty of time to grow well-acquainted with what your hickeys look like." She was grinning widely, struggling not to break down giggling.

Meg clenched her jaw, struggling to figure out if their friend was serious or not. Barb was always hard to read once she got going, since her default expression was "get it? get it?!", but pursuing something like this seriously instead of pulling any one of them aside seemed too brazen for her.

Lindsay seemed to be evaluating her just as seriously, and one glance at her face left Meg in a hurry to find a scenario to offer to refute Barb's accustation.

She opened her mouth, but it was too late; Lindsay's voice drowned hers out any day.

"Okay fine, you caught me," she sighed, rolling her eyes overdramatically.

"I did?!" Barb squeaked, breaking out into laughter. "Holy shit, what?"

Meg managed a strained grin at Barb when she looked her way, grinning obliviously and only covering her laugh to avoid drawing the attention of other patrons. The moment Barb looked away, Meg glared daggers at Lindsay, who barely even glanced at her.

Lindsay pulled her lips into her mouth nervously, still chewing at the top one even as she shifted to lean on her elbow in an attempt to look smug.

"Well, you know how Gavin can be."

"Do I?" Barb asked, laughter distorting her words.

"Yeah, _annoying_ ," was Lindsay's answer. "And loud. And kind of a dick. No offense, Meg," she said, nodding to her friend before continuing without giving even a pause for her to respond. "And when he drinks it all just kind of dials up to eleven."

"I'd say more like fourteen, but continue," Barb urged.

"Exactly. So, Saturday night he was being a particularly insufferable piece of shit."

"So you decided to make out with him to shut him up since Michael wasn't around to do it."

Lindsay didn't miss the look of terror on Meg's face, though she tried her best to keep her own expression bored, as though the story was about as interesting as recounting an oil change.

"Exactly, except not that at all," she said. "I told him that if he didn't shut the fuck up, I was going to fucking bite him."

"And?"

"Listen, however many beers he'd had, I'd gone at least double."

"So you forgot you were supposed to be biting him and just slobbered all over his neck instead."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, trying to find Meg's foot with her own for reassurance. "No, more like he tried to call my fucking bluff. Except I never fucking bluff."

"So you bit him."

"I bit him."

"And he's still got a hickey four days later instead of turning into a vampire why exactly?"

"One, because I used the last of my power for the century turning Ryan into a nightwalker, remember? And two, because the fucking noise he made was hilarious and I don't make the best decisions while drunk."

"So you just went full leech until he ran out of helium."

"Exactly."

"That's fucking _amazing_ ," Barb said, leaning back in her chair.

"I know, right?"

"Totally. Which begs the question, why were you keeping such an amazing story from me?"

Lindsay went pale at that, her confident facade faltering instantly as she cast her eyes toward Meg.

"Don't look at me, it was your idea," Meg snapped.

"I," Lindsay started, taking a deep breath and staring at the floor.

"Don't tell me you were worried I was gonna tell everyone."

"No! I mean. Yeah, kind of. That is kind of a thing you do sometimes," Lindsay pointed out, wincing and avoiding more than brief eye contact, "but that's not really it."

"Then what is it?"

Lindsay was stalling, Meg could tell. She was desperate for ideas and not quite able to put her thoughts together fast enough.

Meg pulled her feet out of her reach anyway. She'd gotten herself into the mess, she wasn't getting any sympathy or assistance. Not right now, at least.

"It's Michael."

"You didn't tell him?"

"Of course not. You think I want him to fucking deck Gavin?"

"Welllll," Barb smirked, then stopped as soon as she noticed Lindsay's _this is serious_ face.

"Jealousy is like, his one flaw," Lindsay explained, sighing. "He's gotten a lot better about it, like he won't do the thing-" she made an _I'm watching you_ hand motion "-at any guy I so much as smile at at a bar or anything, but one time he nearly fought fucking Ryan of all people for sitting on my lap. If he knew I'd basically kissed Gavin, we'd be stuck testing exactly how much the company's got him insured for."

"Seriously?"

"Probably not, but I'm not willing to risk it? Plus, we're kind of past the statute of limitations here. If we tell him now, he's going to wonder why I didn't tell him before, and then that starts putting me as the one in the hot seat, and while I'd rather that than Gavin since it's definitely not his fault... This is one of those things I'd rather let come out 10 years from now when we're all drunk, honestly."

"Wow," Barb said, slumping back in her chair. "I had no idea things were that complicated in you guys' relationship."

"They're really not. Most his anger stuff is jokes, everyone knows that. And if he did get mad about this, he'd feel like shit about it after. Just, after your friends steal not one but two girlfriends from you, you start getting edgy about your wife voluntarily laying her lips on other people."

"Fair enough."

"I mean, what would Aaron do if he found you like, groping me or something?"

"Honestly? Probably start groping Blaine."

Meg choked on the mouthful of soda she'd been cautiously drinking. "Oh my god he _would_."

Lindsay nodded approvingly. "Okay, I feel like this is something I'm down to orchestrate. Let me just warn Michael in advance."

"Cameras or no? I can definitely wait for us to round up Live Action."

"Nah. I mean, if so, we just post the boys' part. I feel like hot Yang-on-Ruby action is something the internet would be a little too all over."

Barb stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Point."

They all went silent, save the low rustle as Lindsay chanced grabbing some fries from the bag now that the moment had passed. She watched Meg carefully, stifling her own sigh in relief when she saw the older girl's posture noticeably relax, her hands no longer clutching her cup for dear life. Lindsay reached out with her foot under the table, patting Meg's with hers what she hoped was comfortingly, or at least apologetically, casting her only the briefest pout when they finally made eye contact.

"Okay, just one question though," Barb asked, checking the time on her phone.

"...Yeah?" Lindsay ventured, folding her lips as she saw panic fill Meg's eyes again.

"How the hell did you get him to hold still?"

"...what?"

"I said, how the hell did you get him to hold still."

"I- what?" Lindsay asked, genuinely bewildered. "What do you mean 'hold still'?"

"Gavin is literally made of silly putty. The moment you go anywhere near his neck, he wriggles away. I feel like the eel comparison Michael once made is accurate."

Lindsay squinted in confusion. "Okay, I'm going to answer that question, but only because I need one answered in response. I fucking vice-gripped him from behind, and when he tried to escape I bent him over the back of the couch."

"Niiiiiice."

"And now my question: how the fuck would you know how he reacts to neck kisses?"

Lindsay noticed Meg's face light up before Barb's, and she mouthed a _what the fuck_ in Meg's direction before looking back to the blonde as she started speaking. "Oh my god. You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Barb looked at Meg. "She doesn't know."

Meg was biting her lip, clearly trying to hold back laughter.

"Okay," Lindsay complained, narrowing her eyes, "what have I so glaringly missed?"

Barb snorted a laugh, exchanging another look with Meg and nodding at her.

"Barb was fucking Gavin for _ages_ ," Meg explained, grinning way too widely for what she was talking about.

"She what? You _what_?" Lindsay demanded, looking between her friends, eyes wide.

"It was at least a year," Barb added. "Probably closer to two."

"You told me you two only had one date, and it was 'the second worst date of your life'."

"One hundred and ninety nine percent true. We didn't date."

"So you were fuckbuddies."

"Hell yeah."

" _ **What**_ _?!_ " Lindsay made several noises of disbelief, mouth agape before she finally managed to add, "When the fuck did that happen?"

"Not any time recently, don't worry," Barb promised. "But, after that one _pathetic_ date, we decided that while we didn't really click romantically, we were both young and hot and horny and drunk pretty fucking often, and that screwing each other was preferable to both our hands and being in a hurry to find dates."

"Holy shit."

"Oh, don't act so surprised."

"I'm gonna fucking act surprised because I am fucking surprised. Especially because you specifically told me that no, you two never fucked."

"You never asked me if we fucked."

"Yes I did."

"Nope. You only asked me if we'd dated."

Barb grinned, clearly proud of herself. Lindsay scowled back at her.

"Fine, you win. But now I've got another question for you. How the hell are you gonna give me shit for not telling you about my vicious Gavin attack when you've kept this from me for what, four years?"

Barb just started laughing. "I'm sorry. I really didn't think it was a secret. I thought it was one of those things everyone knew but no one ever talked about because one, honestly, it doesn't matter much, and two, to minimize the risk of the fans finding out."

"I mean, I guess?" Lindsay answered, still confused.

"Oh come on. I was over at Geoff's like, every weekend."

"So?"

"So what other reason would I have to be supposedly sleeping on the Ramsey couch that often."

"I don't fucking know. Meg's slept on our couch like twice a month for the last year."

Barb wiggled her eyebrows while Meg did her best not to react. Lindsay winced, biting her tongue to avoid saying "oops" out loud, deciding to give Meg a distraction instead. "You knew about this?"

"Of course I knew. You think I'm gonna date someone for over a year and not know who they've been in bed with?"

Lindsay's face went blank as she mentally tripped over herself. Yeah, she and Michael knew everything about each others' history, but she'd never paused to dwell on any of her friends' habits or pasts... So other than the occasional compared notes after one drink too many all around, the only friend or co-worker's sex life she had any real grasp on was Geoff and his lack of a filter.

And, she slowly realized, Meg and Gavin, who she'd heard more often than she cared to admit that week alone.

It wasn't like she wanted to know, either. She was pretty sure that not knowing was the norm, anyway, but she'd also never stopped to think about it.

"Touche," she said finally, shrugging and leaning back against the booth. "I still can't believe you'd keep me out of the loop though.

Barb snickered at that. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you wanted to know what Gavin was like in the sack so badly," she teased, propping her chin on her hands and sticking out her tongue.

_Her hand laced in his messy hair, gently but insistently guiding him lower, Meg's voice purring encouragement from behind him as he flashed her his trademark lopsided grin..._

"Really though, I just never brought it up because it wasn't important. It was just sex, you know?" She shrugged. "Kept us out of trouble."

Lindsay gave a small cough to clear her throat. "Yeah, no, I hear you," she answered, unable to keep her eyes from drifting back over to Meg. She'd pulled her phone out at some point and was reading a text on it, her cheek twitching into a smile before she moved to reply. A smile flashed across Lindsay's face at the expression - then she felt her chest tighten as she noticed her own instinctive reaction. "Just sex," she repeated, her voice more hollow than she meant for it to be.

Her cheeks felt frustratingly hot. Lindsay picked up her cup, shaking it in hopes of there being soda left to cool off with but hearing only ice inside. She took a long, intentionally loud drag of the straw anyway, smirking when Barb rolled her eyes at the gurgling noise.

Meg looked up at the noise, startled away from her phone by the sound and Lindsay's chuckle. "What?" she asked, looking between them.

Barb waggled her eyebrows at her.

"What?" Meg repeated, more insistently.

"Oh, I was just saying you're welcome," Barb explained in the same amused voice that usually preceded her puns.

"...What for?" Meg asked cautiously.

"For teaching Gavin everything he knows," Barb answered, winking and clicking her tongue.

"Excuse me?"

Lindsay took a deep breath, covering her face with both hands and leaning her head until it touched the wall. Hopefully, they'd spend enough time play-bickering that she could settle her pulse back to normal before she had to respond or drive back to work.

 

* * *

 

 

"I think I want to fuck Meg."

There were a lot of things Michael expected to hear when lying in bed next to his naked wife, while both of them still too busy trying to catch their breath to bother with the whole cuddling thing just yet. That wasn't exactly one of them.

"I know."

But it _was_ something he'd been expecting sooner or later.

"You _know_?" Lindsay demanded, letting go of his hand to roll over onto her elbows and glare at him. Michael was pretty sure she was going for angry, but by now he knew how to filter out her default vaguely threatening look and so she just looked shocked to him.

"Yeah, of course I do. I mean, it's a little awkward that you'd say so right after fucking me, but hey."

She sighed, collapsing onto her crossed arms. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Eh, don't be."

"I want to fuck you like, a hellatuple times more," she giggled, reaching out to rest a hand on her husband's chest to let it rise and fall with his breathing.

"Well you fucking better. I mean, we both know I'm a sex god, so how could you not?"

Lindsay tried to hide her giggles by turning her face into her arm, succeeding only in snorting against the bedsheets. Michael just smiled victoriously, reaching up to let his hand rest over hers on his chest and run his thumb softly across her knuckles.

"But no, really," he continued, "I kinda figured."

She took a moment to process his words before responding. "You knowing and you being okay with it are two different things, though." He could tell she wasn't chastising or pushing for an answer, only making sure she understood his words right.

Michael sighed silently, turning to look at her while the wheels turned. She met his gaze over his shoulder and through her bangs, half her face hidden against her arm, and it was impossible to read her emotion from that angle.

"Yeah, I don't know yet."

"That's fine," Lindsay said quickly.

"I'm okay with you wanting to," he clarified. "What I don't know is if I'm okay with you two actually doing it."

"Okay."

"...Does Meg know?"

It was Lindsay's turn to sigh. "I haven't told her yet, no. I feel like there's no way she doesn't, though." Her second sentence was muffled as she turned her face back into the mattress, feeling embarrassed by the admission.

Michael stared at the ceiling for a moment, nudging her hand and twisting his until their fingers were laced together and he could squeeze her hand tightly. "I'll think about it. The next few weeks are going to be really busy though, so I might not have an answer anytime soon."

"That's okay," Lindsay assured him, nodding slightly and squeezing his hand. "I just figured it was best to tell you."

"Thanks." He rolled onto his side to press a soft kiss to her hair.

Lindsay turned to snuggle into him softly, her arm flopping over his side to trace along his spine lazily. "That's right," she whispered. "The last round of Lazer Team filming is next week, isn't it?"

"Yep. More 4AM days," Michael grumbled.

"Joy."

"My sentiments exactly."

They lay there for several minutes,Michael's nails playing gently at the nape of Lindsay's neck while she held onto him loosely. It was around the third time she tilted her head up to kiss him softly that he felt her grin against his lips.

"Hmm?'

Her fingers found their way into his hair, holding his face close to hers so that she was speaking only a breath from his lips. "I guess we better get our fill of lovin' in before that so you won't have any distractions during filming, huh?" she asked, struggling not to giggle.

Michael clicked his tongue and made a noise of disapproval. "Gurrrrl, you nasty," he chided.

Lindsay couldn't help but shriek when he pushed her down to the bed, his weight concentrated on his hips so she know how much he liked her suggestion.

 

* * *

 

 

"You could have warned me!"

Gavin had appeared at the edge of Meg and Ashley's office, his face urgent and almost panicked, and Meg had completely failed to notice him until he'd already finished speaking.

She pulled off her headphones, pausing the clip she was editing in the same movement, and stared at him, bewildered.

"What?"

"Barb!"

She looked around, half expecting her to be behind one of them. "...What about Barb?"

"You could have warned me!"

"Warned you what?"

"That you'd gone and told her where this came from," he snapped, tapping his collar. The mark had mostly faded, but he was wearing a sweatshirt for the fourth day in a row anyway, trying his best to avoid notice.

"Don't look at me, Lindsay did that," she answered defensively. Gavin didn't sound genuinely upset - merely the same brand of upset that usually accompanied such calls as "help, Ryan's after me again!", so she didn't feel bad arguing with him about it.

"You still knew and you didn't warn me!"

"Why does it matter?"

"Well, obviously because Barb came to tease me about it, that's why!"

"And?"

"Well if I'd known in advance we could have kept our stories straight, yeah?"

Meg felt her heart drop.

"Oh."

"'Oh' is about it, isn't it?" Gavin glanced behind him as a door creaked open somewhere in the office, then ducked into the darkened interior of the half-room and crouched beside her chair, balancing himself with one hand on the arm of it. He dropped his voice to a loud whisper. "I told her you'd done it, at first, but she told me not to worry about lying because she already knew it was Lindsay."

"And what'd you say then?"

"Well I denied it, of course! Told her she was absolutely mental."

"And?"

"Well she kept on saying it. Said you told her yesterday at Wendy's."

"Really though, it wasn't me, it was-"

He rolled his eyes, giving another quick glance behind him before cutting her off. "Yes I know, Lindsay, right. I meant you as in both of you, you were all at lunch."

"Fair enough."

"That's neither here nor there. I need to know what you told Barb. Exactly what you told her. Because obviously it was a lie, but I didn't manage to tell the same lie and now she's acting awfully suss."

Meg's eyes went wide, her hand instinctively clutching his. "Crap, Gavin. What'd you tell her?"

He sighed. "That you'd both been pissed out of your minds and you dared her to do it."

"Jesus Christ."

"Well it's not my fault now, is it? You're the ones who didn't tell me she knew."

"I didn't think she'd say anything..."

"Well, you thought wrong."

"Shit. Sorry."

Meg sank back into her chair, closing her eyes, hand still resting on Gavin's. She took a deep breath, mind racing - how badly had Gavin's story counteracted the one she and Lindsay had told, and would Barb actually be suspicious of it? With any luck, she'd either assume they'd all been too drunk to remember, or figure that one of them was lying because they found the truth too embarrassing.

Gavin seemed like the likelier choice for the latter. Lindsay's version of things was far more compromising to him, so it would make sense that he'd try to cover it up and simplify things.

Except now she could hardly remember Lindsay's version.

She'd spent the whole time in a vague state of panic, certain Barb wasn't going to buy whatever bullshit they fed her; Lindsay's words hadn't mattered because none of it was going to work anyway. Once the ordeal was over, she'd quickly forgotten them, too relieved to bother remembering.

It was going to cost her now.

"So what did you tell her?"

"Ugh, I'm trying to remember," she sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead. "It was to shut you up, I remember that much."

Gavin snorted. "Of course it was."

"There are worse ways to shut you up."

"Better ones, too, but alright."

"She said it was a bite."

"Christ," Gavin muttered, leaning his head against the side of the chair.

"What?"

"I used the word 'kiss', for sure."

"Both our versions say you were drunk as dicks though."

"True enough."

Meg sighed thoughtfully, letting her fingers drum on her boyfriend's. "There was also definitely something about the ridiculous noise you made when she did it."

"What?!" he complained, pitch rising just shy of cracking speed.

"About like that, honestly."

He scoffed, but smiled a bit, as though he was trying not to let her see how amused he actually was.

"Oh, and you might be a vampire now."

"Of course."

"Just thought I'd warn you."

"It's appreciated, I'd hate to start dissolving in sunlight without at least expecting it."

Meg giggled at that, glancing at him to grin before turning back to the ceiling.

"Is that it?"

"There were other bits too, but you'd probably be better off asking her. The whole thing got a little weird, I sort of blocked it out."

Gavin blinked. "Weird how?"

"Barb asked how she'd managed to hold you still."

"...Why?"

"Because apparently she never had any luck in that."

He blinked again.

"...She told Lindsay about you two?"

"So?" he asked, then furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, she didn't know?"

It was Meg's turn to blink.

"No? Should she have?"

"Criminy. I thought everyone knew by now?"

"Not according to Barb? I thought I only knew because we're dating."

"Shit. Well, Michael knew already, and there's no way Geoff couldn't know, he doesn't know the meaning of the word knock."

Meg let out a silent laugh of disbelief, shaking her head. "I thought this was some big cat out of the bag thing, but I guess not. I don't know whether or not to be relieved."

Gavin shrugged, looking over his shoulder again.

"-Speaking of Michael, though," she suddenly added, "he doesn't know."

"I just said he did, though."

"No, I mean, he doesn't know that Barb knows."

"But she doesn't know?"

"You know what I mean."

"You mean he doesn't know that she knows some made up crap happened that gave me a hickey in a way it totally didn't happen?"

"Yep."

"Are either of you going to warn him before Barb ambushes him, too? Or am I going to have to do it."

Meg shook her head. "Neither."

He hesitated. "...Why?"

"Because as far as Barb's concerned, he has no idea Lindsay's the source of the hickey, and we want to keep it that way so he doesn't overreact about something that's no big deal."

He sighed forcefully, almost to the point of whistling. "Lord, I'm not sure I can keep track of all of this."

"That makes literally all of us."

"Barb's bound to find out the truth sooner or later, you realize that, yeah?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, which is hopefully never."

"I don't think she'd really make a big deal of it, though?" Gavin suggested. He scooted slightly, turning to rest his other hand on her knee and balance on a different bit of his feet. "I mean, obviously she's alright with casual things, so I don't think she'd judge? And she protected us when Gus was shitty about finding us in the bathroom."

"Still mad you didn't invite me," Meg teased, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "But you're not wrong. Out of everyone here, I feel like she'd be the least weird about knowing we're- we've all been kissing." Her voice faltered at the words as it dawned on her it was the first time she'd said anything about their situation out loud, let alone that she had no idea what to call it.

He pursed his lips, staring at his hand where it was resting on her knee for several seconds while they sat in silence. "...Think we should just tell her straight out?"

"I..."

It didn't sound like the worst idea ever. Not their best one either, for sure, but she couldn't find any good reasons to argue against teling Barb.

But she couldn't think of any good reasons to, either.

Or, more importantly, what they'd even tell her. That they'd been kissing? FWBL didn't seem like a logical thing to explain to anyone.

"As nice as it'd be to have someone we didn't have to be dodgy around, I don't think we should be sharing this any time soon," Meg said. "And especially not without talking it out with the others."

"Of course not, wouldn't dream of it."

They both fell silent again, until he leaned up and kissed her briefly. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She took a deep breath, biting her lip. "I think so. Yeah. I'm just not sure if I'm ready for anyone to know about any of this?"

He nodded. "I don't think I am either."

Meg closed her eyes, leaning down to let her forehead rest on his.

She didn't have the heart to tell him Gilby had already seen her and Lindsay weeks before.

 

* * *

 

 

"Is it alright if we stay in my old room tonight?"

Gavin's arm was around Meg as he asked the question, her head tilted back to bury her nose against his neck. Their meaning was clear from the grins on their faces and the giggles escaping them:

 _We're drunk as fuck so we want to shag in your shed_.

"Ew. If you _have_ to," Geoff answered, sneering at them.

His own eyes were glassy from whisky. He had a several hour head start on his "kids" and had made it through half a bottle before they'd even arrived, but since his default state was four shots in, he was still arguably more with it than any of them.

He glanced around the room at everyone still present.

Griffon and her friends were gathered in the kitchen still, one of them sitting on the table and the rest leaning on the counter as they chatted about their own lives. He wasn't surprised to see them separate from the group of Rooster Teeth employees decorating the couch and floor in the living room; they'd grown more fond of video games over the years, but even their weirder friends were a little bewildered once too many roosters were in one room. Gavin and Meg had gotten on well with them all, but Meg was pretty normal as far as employees went and Gavin had had several years to acclimate, learning to instigate trouble at parties as well as he could at work. Kerry, Stacey, and Miles had left ages ago, heading to meet some of the others elsewhere. One of Griffon's friends, visiting from the east coast and thus jetlagged, had already vanished to the spare bedroom to sleep.

Geoff watched Meg let go of her boyfriend, giving him a quick kiss as he ducked off down the hall.

"Don't piss all over the fucking seat this time!" Geoff called after him.

Geoff heard him skid to a stop in the hall and backtrack before a middle finger emerged from around the corner. He fished an ice cube out of his whisky and hurled it at Gavin's exposed hand, missing by a good foot, the ice shattering against the wall and scattering around the doorway.

"Ha!" Gavin shouted before disappearing again.

"You pick that up right now, young man," came Lindsay's voice from behind him, stern and vaguely threatening.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

"Oh, pardon me." She cleared her throat, changing tone to that of an annoyed teenage girl. "God, dad, like, grow up. I'm not cleaning up after you, okay? And I'm definitely not calling 911 when you slip and crack your head open."

Geoff blinked, raising an eyebrow at her skeptically.

"What? That's what my dad always told me," she explained, shrugging.

Lindsay was still relatively steady as she plopped down in the seat nearest Geoff, sandwiched between Michael and the arm of the sofa, holding glass the size of her hand filled with something orange and frozen. Originally she'd planned on driving them home, and so had limited herself to just one of Griffon's magnificent cocktails when they'd first arrived. But around eleven he'd found her staring at the blender longingly and making excuses about "Uber, or maybe Barb if she's not busy" to the other Lindsay before asking Griffon if she wanted her to dice any of the fruit. Geoff had no doubt that if glass in her hand didn't catch her up to the others - and he knew it wouldn't - she'd be in his face with a handful of quarters and their respective shot glasses shortly.

She'd probably beat him, too. She was the only one who had since the army, and he was never sure whether to be impressed or scared.

Michael snatched the drink from her hand, shoving his beer into its place and scooting over to sit on her lap. Lindsay just shrugged, taking a big chug that drained half the bottle and wrapping her arm around his waist.

Michael was just as gone as Gavin and Meg, his grin lopsided as he sipped mock-daintily from the tiny stirring straw, and his speech slurred whenever he didn't concentrate on enunciating. Somewhere around his seventh shot he'd spent a solid three minutes peppering Lindsay with kisses against the refrigerator, droning on about how he'd missed her the previous weekend and a few other things whispered in her ear before Griffon had chased them away to get more ice, threatening to pour it down Michael's pants if she caught them sneaking off to the laundry room again. He'd sulked off to the couch where he'd been ever since, his feet in assorted states of resting on the coffee table and people next to him, depending on whether Griffon was looking and how badly he wanted to trip whoever was walking past.

In between sips of Lindsay's drink he pulled out his phone, answering a text awkwardly with vague swipes of his left thumb (he couldn't be bothered to switch hands) then opening up his camera app (at which point he finally did). He leaned back, wrapping an arm around Lindsay's neck and resting his head against hers, pursing his lips into a duckface as he pointed the selfie lens at them both. She was laughing in the picture he snapped, and he grinned approvingly, saving it before lining up another shot, pressing a kiss to her cheek this time.

Geoff's face appeared in the frame just as he snapped the photo, exaggeratedly bewildered, sending the couple into such hysterics that Michael dropped his phone on his lap. He nearly spilled the drink - his drink, it was his now, he'd already had half of it, Lindsay could deal with the fucking beer unless she was going to ask for it back nicely - in the process of picking it back up. He turned his head to lick the bit that had escaped off the side of the glass, only to drop the phone again.

"Geez, Geoff. If you wanted in the photo so bad you could have just asked," Michael teased. He tried to reach down for the phone, but Lindsay tightened her arm around him, shoving the beer bottle in between the couch cushions and grabbing for the glass in his hand. He elbowed her with the other arm when she managed to grab his hand.

"Nah," Geoff answered, leaning down to pick the phone back up for him, tossing it to him before he was done elbowing Lindsay. He barely reacted quickly enough, managing to clutch the phone to his leg, though his grip on it gave him a disadvantage as Lindsay grabbed for the drink again.

Once she'd succeeded in stealing it back, she kissed him on the shoulder before starting to guzzle it straight from the glass.

Michael rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. "Women, right?" he said to Geoff, who laughed.

Lindsay pinched his side for it, and Geoff only laughed harder.

"Traitor," Michael mumbled, turning his phone back on. He flipped the camera around, pointing it at Geoff. "Hey dad, we should film an RT Life," he said, grinning.

"Whatever," Geoff scoffed, taking another draw from his whisky.

"No really. We've got lots of people, there's enough shot glasses to go around. We should do something really stupid."

"You don't need alcohol to do that."

"But Geooofffff. Don't you want to be a big movie star?"

Geoff huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes and making a face at the camera.

"Perfect," Michael said, grinning.

"Oh, I'll show you perfect," Geoff answered, making a big show of unzipping his pants. Michael's phone fell to the floor again - and Michael followed after - when he grabbed at his waistband.

"You're still all talk," Geoff teased, batting Michael on the head before dropping onto the arm of the sofa and making a half-hearted attempt at re-fastening his pants.

"Hey, I was getting down here to help you out," Michael shot back. "Your dick on camera is old news. This seemed more important."

" _Some_ one's gunning for a raise."

"Geoff, please. What do you take me for? I have ethics. This is strictly personal."

"It'd have to be. You'd need a lot of practice before you were good enough to impress me. And I've gotta be pretty impressed to give anybody any money."

"It's not even your money."

"Oh, but it could be," Geoff assured him.

"Ahhhh, fuckin brainfreeze," Lindsay bitched from behind them, clutching her forehead. Her glass was already empty.

"Now whose fucking fault is that?" Michael snapped, though his face showed concern still as he turned around toward her.

"Awww, Michael, now that's not very nice," Meg said softly from the doorway, a hint of drunken waver in her cadence. "Need me to kiss it and make it better?" she asked, leaning over the back of the couch and letting her arms drape around Lindsay's neck. She kissed her temple anyway, not waiting for an answer.

" _Meg_ ," Lindsay scolded, wincing and turning her head away from her face.

"I'm just trying to help~."

"Someone's friendly tonight," Geoff muttered under his breath, giving a snort of a laugh.

"Go help Gavin," Michael suggested, irritation tinting his voice. "He's been in the bathroom for like ten minutes, I bet he's forgotten how to work a zipper."

"I think _you_ should go help him, Michael," Meg countered, giggling to herself. She stood up, smiling to herself and playing with the ends of Lindsay's hair.

"As if."

"C'moonnnn. It'll be fun. You think so, don't you Geoff? You can hold the camera!"

"God no." Geoff sneered, knocking back the rest of his whisky and giving a slight shudder at the burn before answering. "I mean, sure, it'll be funny, but you're going to have to find a different camera guy because I'm not watching that shit."

"But you'll let me suck your dick," Michael countered, sounding almost hopeful.

"Well yeah, it's _my_ fucking dick. Who gives a shit if I have to see that."

"Maybe I give a shit, Geoff. You ever think of that?" Lindsay had finally stopped holding her forehead, and was doing her best to give a serious glare at him. She unwedged the beer from between the couch cushions, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip without breaking eye contact.

"Well that's your fucking problem then."

"You should show him _your_ dick, Linds," Meg suggested, resting her chin on Lindsay's head and hanging her arms around her again. She giggled to herself, nibbling at her lower lip grinning in Geoff's direction. "I bet it's way more impressive."

"Well, too bad because I didn't bring it with me."

Meg lost it, snorting with laughter and falling to her knees so she was leaning against the back of the couch. "I was joking, I didn't think you had one," she said, though only a word or two was actually comprehensible between her laughter and the way her voice was muffled against the fake leather.

"Who broke Turney?" Gavin asked from the door, looking around for her. "Actually, where'd she even go? I hear her, but I don't see-"

Everyone in the room was pointing behind the couch.

Gavin rocked in place for a moment, surprised by the unanimous response. "Ah, well. Should have guessed." He crossed the room, managing to only stumble once despite being easily as drunk as his girlfriend, and knelt at the back of the couch to help her to her feet.

The others watched as Gavin got her over to the other couch and carefully set her glasses on the table, Michael climbing back onto Lindsay's lap in the mean time. No sooner had Meg landed on the cushion then she turned into a giggly mess all over again, making faces in the Jones's direction and pawing at Gavin's hand to try and pull him onto the couch beside her.

Geoff rolled his eyes, jostling his the ice in his empty glass and glancing between it and the kitchen. "You sure she's going to make it to the shed?" he asked Gavin.

Gavin turned to answer, only to shout in alarm as Meg's open palm hit his ass, her gleefully victorious cheer following.

"Really, Turney?" he demanded, glaring at her while he rubbed the spot she'd spanked. "She'll be fine, I assure you. If she's still managing this, then in 20 minutes it'll be like she's only had one drink all night. She's just being silly."

" _You're_ silly," Meg said, grabbing at the side of his shirt to pull him back toward her, stealing another kiss when he finally leaned to her level. "C'mon, sit," she urged.

"From the looks of it I'm the last sober one here, so I think I'd rather find something to fix that before I sit," he said, squeezing her hand apologetically as he freed his shirt from her grip.

"Bring me one too?!"

Gavin shook his head.

Meg pouted.

Gavin sighed. "You can have some of mine, but you should take it easy for a bit so you can still play games with us later."

Meg grinned at that, then grinned even louder after Gavin leaned down to whisper something in her ear, grabbing his face to kiss both his cheeks and his nose before letting him go again.

"I like that trade," she told him, winking.

"Thought you would. Now if you'll excuse me."

Geoff was in his path as he headed toward the kitchen, forcing him to side step between him and the coffee table. "Get me another too," he said, shoving his whisky glass into Gavin's hand. "Also, you're doing your own fucking laundry tomorrow."

"Well I guess I better stay a few days to make the trouble worth it. You have pancake mix? On Sundays we go for a walk, then have pancakes."

Geoff frowned at him, then shrugged. "Hey Griffon, do we have pancake mix?!" he shouted toward the kitchen.

"What?" she called back.

"Pancake mix!"

"What mix? I already put the blender in the dishwasher!"

"Nevermind!" he yelled even louder, shaking his head. "I'll ask her later."

Everyone else was in assorted states of trying not to laugh and failing horribly.

"Grab me another, too?" Michael asked once Gavin finally remembered he was in the middle of fetching another drink. "Lindsay stole mine."

"Heyyy. Excuse me," Lindsay said, pinching him on the thigh.

Gavin laughed, then shrugged. "Sorry, boi. I've only got two hands."

Michael sighed dramatically. "Okay fine. I guess I'll come with you," he complained, twisting to kiss Lindsay on the forehead before standing up.

Geoff grunted as Michael pushed past him too, then worked his way past Lindsay to the large couch and collapsed on it, arms relaxed across the headrest. He'd been seated thirty seconds at best when he felt a hand on his knee, then gone again just as quickly. By the time he opened his eyes, Meg had already slammed her knee into his lap too on her way past.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?" he demanded, scowling and rubbing his leg.

"Oops, sorry!" she answered without even looking back.

Meg giggled as she climbed onto Lindsay's lap, straddling her and cuddling into her shoulder. "My seat now," she said contently, letting her weight sink into Lindsay.

Lindsay laughed, reaching to wrap her arms around Meg, but was stopped dead when she spotted Geoff staring at her. "Whoa. Alright," she said, patting Meg on the back cautiously. "I think Gavin's right about you needing to take a break."

Meg snorted. "Oh _please_. I've only had three drinks and two shots, and we got here at nine."

"That was way more than two shots."

"My shot glass is like way tinier than yours! It's the one they used to make Gavin use before he was 21. It's definitely like, half a shot at best."

"More like every other shot glass the Ramseys own is a double shot."

"Lies and slander," Geoff added, smiling to himself as he let his head drop and eyes shut again.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, glancing around the room to make sure no one but Geoff was still in it.

"Still, you should cool it a little," she whispered, letting her cheek rest to Meg's so she could speak right in her ear.

"What do you mean?" Meg mumbled.

"I mean if you keep touching me every chance you get, people might suspect something."

She giggled, almost purring her words. "What's to suspect?"

" _Meg_."

"Oh come on," Meg whispered, tilting her head up until her breath was right on Lindsay's ear, "it's just Geoff. He's not going to notice anything."

Lindsay shivered, her mouth going dry as she felt her friend's hand slowly slide down from her shoulder until it gave her breast a soft squeeze. It was the side opposite Geoff, so the chances of him noticing were slim, and almost exciting, but she clenched her teeth and pulled Meg's hand down gently instead.

"You're right, but there's also lots of other people here. Anyone could walk in at any time, then we'd be fucked."

Meg sighed, twisting her hand in Lindsay's grasp until their fingers interlocked. "You're right," she conceded.

"Later," Lindsay whispered. "Or tomorrow, if we get too tired."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Meg sat up, evaluating Lindsay's face to make sure she was serious. Lindsay stared back, trying to keep her eyes off Meg's lips. Instead she looked over her cheeks and her eyes, deciding that maybe Meg was right about not being all that drunk; her cheeks were barely pink, despite her makeup being very light, and her eyes were still focusing on hers just fine.

Meg bit her lip, glancing back over at Geoff, then at the door. "Can I have a kiss?" she asked Lindsay quietly.

She nearly said yes, then thought better of it when she thought she heard footsteps near the door. "Later," she promised.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Not even one?"

"Too risky."

Meg shrugged and nodded. "Fair enough," she agreed, letting go of Lindsay's hand and surveying the room again. "Then can I do… this?!"

She did a face plant right into Lindsay's cleavage, giggling the whole way. Lindsay shrieked out a laugh, hands scrambling along Meg's back as instinctive confusion overrode any idea of how to react. Her shirt was fairly low cut, leaving all of the skin Meg had her face wedged against bare, Meg's face feeling slightly cold in comparison.

"Meg!" Lindsay spouted, more startled than anything.

"What?" she said innocently, coming up for air.

"What was that supposed to be?"

"Oh, I'm just being silly," she grinned, winking.

Lindsay only made it halfway through an "oh my god" before Meg's face disappeared.

"Ew, grosssssssss," Lindsay complained as Meg started blowing raspberries, which immediately left her laughing too hard to continue blowing them. Lindsay pushed at the top of Meg's head, trying to push her back, earning her hand a raspberry of its own before she finally sat up, both girls laughing hysterically.

Michael's serious stare from behind the loveseat cut Meg off instantly.

"Hi?" she offered, sitting completely rigid.

Michael gritted his teeth, struggling not to yell. There were too many other people there; it would only draw unwanted attention.

Instead, he gripped the back of the couch tightly in one hand, setting his beer down on the side table with a firm clunk.

"Boi?" Gavin asked from behind him, followed by a strangled noise once he saw the girls and noticed Michael's posture.

Lindsay craned her neck to look back at Michael, expression neutral but serious. She let one of her hands rest on Meg's thigh and squeezed firmly, holding her to her lap.

The familiarity of the situation didn't escape her in the slightest. She was braced for the dam to burst and several months of suppressed jealousy to come surging out - he'd said to her repeatedly that he didn't mind, but with her newest admission the night before, she felt like that was likely to change. It was a risk she'd been prepared for since deciding she should confess. It all depended on how much of his self control the alcohol had sapped and how much he'd seen.

Michael barely glanced at her before levelling his gaze on Meg again. She stared back, breathlessly.

"Meg. I need to borrow you for a minute," he said, jaw still clenched.

"Yeah?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah."

Lindsay reached back with one hand, holding it out toward him, face full of concern. "Michael?"

"Not right now," he muttered. He looked back up at Meg, jerking his head toward the door. "Right now."

She nodded, standing up carefully, her hand lingering on Lindsay's shoulder until she was out of reach. "Okay?" she asked.

"We need to talk."

"Oy. Anything you need to say to her, you can say to me too," Gavin objected. He knew whatever Michael wanted to say had to be important, and probably had something to do with the blatant PDA she and Lindsay had been prone to lately. Michael tended to forget how imposing he could be when drunk, and while Gavin - while all of them - knew he wouldn't hurt a fly, and that Meg was more than capable of holding her own and in fact could stare any of them down, save Lindsay, if she wanted to, he still wanted to give Meg support on the off chance Michael said something outright batshit.

Michael leveled his gaze at Gavin, who tried his best to stand straight to emphasize the whole inch he had over him.

"Fine," he snapped, stomping off toward the kitchen. "But she's staying here," he added, nodding toward Lindsay.

She frowned. "Okay."

"Oh, give this to Geoff," Gavin said, backtracking a few steps to hand the glass of whisky to Lindsay. "Don't worry, we'll be alright."

"You better be. I don't want to have to have _words_ with anyone," she answered, trying her best to smile like it was no big deal.

She waited until she heard a door close in the distance before finally letting out a harsh sigh. She held the cold glass to her forehead for a moment, chewing on her tongue and taking a few deep breaths.

"I thought we were over this drama," she muttered to herself.

She heard a grunt from Geoff's direction and bolted upright again, suddenly remembering he was in the room and there was a good chance he'd heard everything.

His head rolled to the side, a low snore escaping him.

Lindsay slumped forward again, sighing in relief. It made Michael's overreaction all the more frustrating, but it also saved her from a lot of weird explaining. She rested the glass against her forehead again, shutting her eyes and enjoying the cold and condensation the ice cubes inside provided. It gave her something to concentrate on.

She glanced back over at her snoozing boss, then at the TV, still on quietly, then at the glass in her hand.

"Whatever," she huffed, knocking back the whole draw of whisky in one motion. She gagged on the burn, wincing hard. It was at least three shots worth, and Lindsay honestly hoped it was enough to leave her in the same state as Geoff.

She leaned forward to set the once again whisky-less glass down in front of Geoff on the coffee table, taking a deep breath and rolling her tongue to try and get the taste out of her mouth.

She couldn't hear the others, not over the TV and certainly not over the chatter in the kitchen of Griffon and the two friends she still had over.

She checked her phone, rubbed her eyes, typed out a quick message, then stood up, walked down the hall, and shut herself in the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you guys tomorrow!


	13. But Moooooom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which no one wants to go the fuck to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the second half of what was meant to be a single chapter. This fucker capped out over 19000 words total, if you count the text messages.
> 
> Yes, I may have a problem with brevity.
> 
> Continued warnings of way way too much drinking. Forgive any questionable inconsistencies in inebriation levels; I hang out with people who recover fast and tend to forget others might not.

 

Michael closed the laundry room door behind Meg, herding Gavin behind him toward the door to the porch. As frustrated as he was, he still knew three things: that it was only right to let her feel safe by having the best route to the door, that he couldn't yell because they were literally steps away from several of Griffon's friends, and most importantly, that nothing had _really_ changed between when he'd left for LA the week before and now.

What he didn't know was how to say any of what was on his mind, and the cloud left in his head by three hours of rum and beer wasn't helping.

"Michael? What's wrong?"

His head was swimming. He was almost glad to feel the surge of jealousy in his veins again, in a twisted way. It had been absent for so long it had started to scare him. But Meg wasn't there to steal Lindsay, he knew that. So what was his problem?

"Michael?"

"You can't do that shit in public," he snapped.

Meg blinked. "...What?"

"I said you can't do that shit in public."

"And I asked what that's supposed to mean."

He growled, starting a few words and stopping them just as quick, balling up his hands and shaking them as he struggled to pull a sentence together. "This! That! Kissing!"

"We didn't kiss though?"

He felt taken aback by that - as close as they'd been, he felt sure they'd snuck one in - but after a few seconds, found his words again. "Sure as fuck looked like it."

"So?"

"So Geoff probably saw!"

Meg scoffed. "Like Geoff cares."

"Like hell he probably does! If he catches us, everyone will fucking know in a day."

"Know what?"

"That we're- you're-" he waved his hands, motioning to both of their mouths. "You're dating _him_. You should be kissing _him_ ," Michael said, pointing at Gavin. "As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, you are not kissing anyone but him unless your job requires it."

"Lindsay knows," Gavin corrected.

"OF COURSE LINDSAY KNOWS," he snapped, holding up his fist as if to hit the dryer, then thinking better of it at the last second and punching his own thigh instead. "Holy shit, are you both so wasted that the obvious bus ran you the fuck over?"

Gavin shrugged, fingers drumming on his beer thoughtfully. "Well if you can still understand me I'm probably not so drunk I sound like I've been across the pond for a month."

"I don't think I'm any drunker than you," Meg agreed, putting her hand on her hip and glaring at Michael, lip stuck out in a pout.

Michael made a noise of frustration, clenching and unclenching his hands before crossing his arms to keep them busy.

"We've been over this like three times already," Meg continued. "First of all, we're both girls, and no one is going to think twice about two girls cuddling and being clingy. Second, you two do shit like that all the time. Why should Lindsay and I be any different?"

Michael sputtered. "What?! We don't _cuddle_."

Meg raised an eyebrow as high as it could go, an expression more condescending than normal without her glasses in the way. Michael looked to Gavin instead, who avoided eye contact quite deliberately as he took a gulp of his beer.

"You two can't be serious. We don't _cuddle_."

"I mean, it's not like a constant thing, but I'm pretty sure falling asleep on top of each other and playing games with your head resting on his shoulder counts as cuddling."

Gavin squeaked quietly, turning away completely to look very interested in the detergent bottle.

"Okay, fine. Gavin and I fucking cuddle. But it wasn't in public."

"Seriously," Meg said, chuckling the whole time, "Geoff's house does _not_ count as pub-"

"Yes it fucking does, okay?! It fucking does. If there are other people present, then someone can fucking catch us. Do you have any idea how fucking awful that would be?"

"I'm preeeeettyyyy sure no one would care as much as you think they would."

"What, so now you want to tell them? What are we even going to fucking tell them? 'Oh, hi everybody, guess what! We've all been cheating on our partners for the last four fucking months. It's okay though, because we're not fucking or anything like that! We just spend allllll of our time together and kiss constantly like _fucking fifth graders playing house_.'"

Both of the others went silent.

"...Micoo?" Gavin ventured finally.

Michael huffed and stared at the ground.

"Micoo, is that really how you feel about this boi?"

"I- I don't fucking know," he answered, pulling at his face and blowing a long, slow breath against his hand. "I'm drunk, okay? I'm fucking drunk. I'm drunk and I saw you touching Lindsay and I've barely fucking gotten to touch her all week and- and she's- she's mi- she married _me_ , okay?!"

"She did," Meg agreed, chancing a step forward. "That hasn't changed."

"I know. I know it hasn't."

He felt Meg's hand touch his arm, gingerly, testing for his reaction. He looked up slowly, taking a deep breath and holding it as their eyes met and lingered.

"Michael," she whispered, and he felt his eyes twitch away as his cheeks suddenly heated without warning. "This is supposed to be fun. We're just playing around. No one's supposed to get hurt."

 _Just playing around_.

He nodded stiffly, still looking away. "I know."

"The rules have changed a bit, but the one that matters is still there: if any of us, any of us at all want to, we stop."

He chuckled. "I'm not going to be the asshole who chickens out first."

Meg sighed. "It's not chickening out. It's knowing your limits. If you need us to, we'll pull the plug on the game. I don't want you getting hurt."

_Game._

"I'm fine. I promise." He shook his head, taking a deep breath and looking back at Meg. "I just overreacted. We… We really do have to be careful about the in public thing though. Please. What you two were doing is okay, I guess? But no kissing. I'm serious. It's too fucking risky. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Meg said.

"Agreed," Gavin echoed from behind him. "If anyone finds out, it'll be game over for sure."

_Game over._

He was torn away from glancing back at Gavin by the feeling of fingers on his cheek. He looked down to see Meg gazing up at him, her nails combing back into his hair softly and grazing the back of his ear. "You okay?" she asked softly.

Michael nodded, feeling a smile twitch across his lips when one started to grow on hers.

He'd already leaned halfway across the gap without noticing when Meg pushed onto her tip toes, her other hand grabbing his other cheek, and kissed him.

They stood that way for several seconds, Michael's right hand drifting up to cradle Meg's face in return, prompting her to sigh softly against his lips. Michael felt his breathless frustration melt away, something about kissing Meg for the first time in weeks rekindling the happiness he'd felt until finding her on Lindsay's lap. His other arm reached around her back, pulling her closer, and Meg let out a happy squeak.

He felt Gavin's hand tug at the back of his shirt, and he pulled back from Meg's lips, instinctively expecting his friend to be waiting behind him for a kiss of his own, but was met by panicked eyes and a stronger pull at his shirt..

Michael heard the doorknob turning before he could ask what was wrong, barely managing to take his hand off Meg's face before it swung open.

"Michael Jones, what have I told you about-"

Griffon stopped mid-sentence, caught off guard by the sight of Meg's hand still outstretched toward Michael's face and Gavin's hand still wound tightly around the fabric of his shirt. All four were frozen, the three inside the laundry room scared to even blink.

"-banging your wife in our… laundry room…" Griffon finished, far more quietly. The cup of ice in her hand rattled as she lowered it.

Michael folded his hands, making a popping sound with his lips. "Hi, mom!" he said brightly, managing a strained grin.

Griffon didn't look nearly as amused.

"I'm going to pretend I never opened this door if none of you ever tell me what I just walked in on."

"They were arguing again!" Meg cut in, sounding as irritated as possible. "I shoved them in here so they wouldn't fucking wake Geoff up, but they're still at it. And I'm about ready to slap the shit out of both of them if they don't fucking can it!"

"Uh-huh," Griffon said, unconvinced. "What is this fight about? Anything I can solve for you?"

"Well Lindsay's too bloody pissed to drive them home, i'n't she?" Gavin asked, sounding as annoyed as he could. He tugged on the back of Michael's shirt again, causing his collar to pull at his throat and Michael to snap at him in irritation.

"Ow! What the fuck, you asshole!"

"And Michael's been insisting that they could just call for an Uber," Meg added, irritation in her voice as well, "but that just sounds like a waste of money. I know it's only like $20 for them to get home, but then they have to come back for the van tomorrow. It's just stupid."

"A compelling argument," Griffon agreed, crossing her arms. "So what, they're going to sleep on the couch? We're out of beds."

"Of course not," Gavin said. "I've got the fold out in my room. No reason they can't stay there."

Griffon looked to Michael, who had just pulled his shirt free from Gavin and was scowling his way still. "I think that sounds like a plan," she said.

" _Fuck_ no," Michael growled. "I am not fucking sleeping on a musty hide-a-bed while these two assholes bang above my head."

"Well we're not very well going to be shagging if you're in the room!"

"You better not!"

"We won't! Just stay in my room. It'd be stupid to go home this time of night."

"I'll go home if I damn well please."

"See???" Meg said urgently, waving her hands at the boys.

Griffon shrugged. "Okay. I'm convinced."

"...Huh?"

"You three have clearly actually been fighting in here."

"No fucking shit we have. The moment Gavin gets drunk he has to turn anything into a goddamn fight," Michael complained.

Griffon nodded. "I'll agree with you there, but he's right about you going home."

"-What?!"

She smiled devilishly. "I'll get some fresh sheets for the 'musty hide-a-bed'," she suggested. "Should make it smell a lot better, and that way you two can drink to your hearts' content tonight and drive yourselves home tomorrow."

"See?!" Meg exclaimed, smacking Michael lightly upside the head.

"Holy fucking shit, woman! You're lucky you're tiny, otherwise I'd swing right back."

"Bring it on!" She moved her feet and raised her fists in a fighting stance, grinning.

Griffon sighed loudly. "I'll leave you three to work this out," she informed them, closing the door again.

They all fell silent, listening to her footsteps until they were out of hearing range, then dropping out of their poses and breathing a collective sigh of relief.

"That was a close one," Gavin complained, leaning back against the washer.

"Too close," Meg agreed.

"You know what that was?" Michael asked, taking a deep breath.

"...What?" Meg asked.

"That was _WHY WE DON'T FUCKING DO THINGS IN PUBLIC_!"

The others stared at him agape, glancing nervously at each other.

Then broke down laughing in unison.

Michael gave a frustrated sigh and reached up to rub his brow. He couldn't help but smile behind his hand, though, and before long, even he was laughing.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay grinned to herself, setting her phone on her forehead and letting her feet rest on the side of the tub. The bathroom floor was nice and cool; it made the burn of the whisky in her stomach far less distracting.

"Babe, you in there?" came Michael's voice from outside the door.

"Go 'way, I'm taking a shit!" she lied, chuckling to herself.

Her phone fell off her forehead. She turned to pick it back up, giving a long groan as pain spread across her temples from the sudden shift.

"Can you bring me some water?" she asked, turning her screen on just long enough to see if she had any more messages before resting it on her chest.

"I've got some Gatorade in the car," he offered.

"Fuckin' sweet. Lemme chug that then I can go play cards still."

"You're gonna have to gimme the goddamn keys then, woman!"

"They're in my purse. Get them your goddamn self, asshole!"

"Fine!"

Michael sighed fondly, listening to Lindsay laugh from inside the bathroom. Once she was determined to beat Geoff at something, she wouldn't stop until she either succeeded, or he got so sick of it he just dragged out Dead or Alive. He shook his head as he headed back to the living room, making a mental note to ask Griffon for a puke bucket in addition to the fresh sheets.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg frowned as her phone died before she could check her latest message, wondering how she'd managed to use three-quarters of a battery since arriving. Shrugging, she went to grab her charger from her purse and plugged it in by the side table.

She plopped down on the couch, snuggling into Gavin and stealing both a kiss and a sip of his beer.

If it was anything important, he'd tell her.

 

* * *

 

 

_Ninety minutes, two Gatorades, three Red Bulls, and a new bottle of Wild Turkey later..._

 

* * *

 

 

Geoff narrowed his eyes at Lindsay's cards - a nine and an eight - and then down at his own four that had pushed him into bust by surprise queen. "For fucks's sake," he grumbled, grabbing his shot glass and swallowing the contents without even wincing.

"Not my fault the cards don't like you tonight," Lindsay teased. "Hope you're enjoying losing."

"Yeah yeah, keep talking. It's your turn to deal. Hurry it up."

She grinned, reaching for the deck.

Lindsay gave a sudden shriek as Michael came up behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and lifting her off the ground. "Michael! What the fuck?!" she laughed, doing her best to sound angry.

"I'm tagging in," he declared, spinning her around. Her feet dragged on the floor for a second, so he hiked her back up higher, laughing victoriously.

"But I'm winning!" she whined, kicking her legs to try and wiggle free.

He kissed the back of her neck and grinned. "Exactly. So give me the fucking baton and we'll lap this asshole."

"I'm right here you know," Geoff complained, already pouring himself another shot.

"Fine," Lindsay conceded, "but if you lose, you have to drive this week."

He grumbled dramatically, letting her go. "Fine, fine," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll win this one. For you."

"You better," she answered, casting him a serious glare as she walked away.

Griffon came up and leaned her arm on Lindsay's shoulder, sighing as they watched Michael twist the cap off a bottle across the room. He'd dropped down to half-shots by now; he was one of the few people at the party who recognized when he'd had enough, instead of getting more overzealous as the night wore on, so if he'd had enough, everyone else who'd been playing was definitely heading toward hazardous territory.

"You wanna go tag in too?" Lindsay asked Griffon, nodding toward the game.

"No. Actually I was thinking, we should find something to play that doesn't involve alcohol."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"In the cupboard under the sink, right next to the fun of cleaning up the carpet when at least one of you inevitably doesn't make it to the bathroom in the morning."

Lindsay crossed her arms, shrugging her shoulder to push Griffon's arm off. "I can clean up after myself."

"Say that to me again when you've got an ice pack on the back of your neck and can't stand even the kitchen lights."

"That was one time, damn't."

"And it's not a performance I'd like you to repeat, at least not in our house."

She stuck her tongue out at Griffon, earning an affectionate slap to the back of her head.

"Listen, you were already laying on the bathroom floor once tonight. I know you feel better now, but that's probably just the Red Bull talking, and you've gone through another what, six shots in there playing cards? Take it easy for half an hour, grab a glass of water, then we'll talk about a round," Griffon offered.

Lindsay scoffed. "I _guess_. If I _have_ to," she said with an intentionally loud sigh. Still, she gave Griffon a one-armed hug before heading back into the kitchen.

"And go make sure the kids aren't doing anything stupid in the bathroom!" Griffon added.

"They probably fell asleep."

"That counts as stupid."

Lindsay stood patiently while the fridge filled her glass with water, watching her husband and boss continue their game. They were still playing by the looser, two player rules she and Geoff had taken to earlier - you only had to drink when you went bust, not just from having the worst hand. Worst hand worked great for large groups, but with two players it was a recipe for disaster.

As she watched, Michael pushed his shot glass aside, grabbing a beer and fumbling with his keys to get the cap off.

He was going to barf all over some poor Uber driver's back seat at this rate.

Sighing, Lindsay put her cup down, grabbing two identical glasses from the dish rack and filling them up.

She eyed them side by side to be sure they were more or less equal, then sauntered over to the island, setting them down in front of Geoff and Michael.

"New rules, gentlemen," she informed them. "Loser takes a drink from these babies each round. First one to piss loses."

They both eyed her suspiciously, Geoff picking up his glass and sniffing at it. "Griffon put you up to this, didn't she?" he said, glancing through the door at his wife and aiming his middle finger her way.

"Nah, this was all me," Lindsay replied. She snatched the beer bottles from in front of both of them with one hand, kissing Michael on the cheek and ruffling Geoff's hair, earning grumbles and eye rolls from them both (but a kiss back from Michael). "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some morons to go drag out of the bathroom."

"Leave 'em," Michael suggested. "That way Geoff can trip over them when he loses."

"I'd rather they not be in there while I piss."

He shook his head, hand wrapping around his glass as Geoff dropped another round of cards in front of him. "Minor details."

Lindsay just chuckled, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze before heading back out of the kitchen.

No sooner did she swap one bottle to her other hand, leaving her free to drink from it, than Griffon stopped her in her tracks, grabbing both bottles.

"Really, mom?" Lindsay complained, crossing her arms.

"You can have these back in 30 minutes," Griffon promised. "Besides, you were about to drink out of Geoff's."

She shrugged. "I've put worse things in my mouth."

"So has he."

"Point heard but ignored."

"Go back and get your water, then check up on Meg and Gav. Please. They're suspiciously quiet."

"I told you, they fell asleep," Lindsay called behind her, doing as she was told.

"What's the fucking meaning of this?" Geoff asked, emerging from the kitchen and waving his glass of water at Griffon.

"It means even Lindsay doesn't feel like donating you a liver."

"Haha, very funny," Geoff answered, sneering at her.

He started chugging the water anyway.

"Awww, Geoff, what happened to our game?" Michael complained, leaning against the doorway and putting on full puppy eyes.

"Fuck the game. I'm tired of standing up."

"Then why are you still standing?"

"I'm fucking working on it, alright?!" Geoff snapped in his usual exasperated, sore loser tone, hiding his pout behind another long sip of water.

"Okay okay, geez."

"Michael, why don't you go grab a game out of the cupboard while Lindsay's checking up on the others?" Griffon suggested. "Something short, it's nearly three."

"And here I was really hoping we could play Risk."

"Less backtalk, more fetching. Hurry it up before I change my mind and send you all to bed."

"Yeah. What she said," Geoff added, scowling at Michael.

"On my way," Michael answered, giving a quick salute and vanishing down the hall.

Griffon sighed, mostly dramatically, though a tinge of genuine fatigue was setting in. "See," she said, wrapping her arms around Geoff's waist from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder, "This is why we never had more kids."

"What is?"

She chuckled. "You've spent the last five years adopting fifteen of them."

"Whoa whoa, hold up," Geoff complained, pulling himself free of her grip to turn around. "First of all, Jack isn't a kid, he's the mom. Or maybe the weird crossdressing uncle, I don't know. Second, I'm going to keep pretending Ryan isn't a kid for as long as I can. And third, there's only-" he stopped to count on his fingers, squinting in concentration and starting over twice, "- _nine_ of them, alright? So there."

Griffon snorted, smirking and reaching for his side again. "You sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure," he snapped, though he glanced at his fingers as though to count them again. "I better be sure, I fucking hired every one of those dipshits."

Griffon's smirk grew and she nodded over her shoulder down the hallway.

Geoff followed her gaze, squinting still, then scoffed. "Hell no. Meg's not mine. We're her in-laws, if that. And Kerry's not my problem either, even if Michael did build him a fucking room in minecraft."

"Okay," Griffon finally conceded, pinching his side and making him twitch before pulling him back into a one-armed hug. "But you're still wrong. There's ten of them."

"No there's- fuck. I forgot Fugz again."

Griffon just laughed to herself, kissing him on the temple before letting go to find a seat on the couch.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay's instinct upon arriving outside the bathroom door was to pound on it and yell, "You motherfuckers better not be fucking in there!"

She didn't, though, because there was a door almost directly behind her where she knew someone was sleeping.

She went for the much subtler approach of knocking and pressing her face right up to the door jamb before mock-shouting, "Hey, what's taking you fucks so long? Someone barf?"

"Go away, we're fucking," Meg called back, followed by lots of muffled laughter.

" _Turney_ ," Gavin complained.

"Ohhhh, Gavin~" she purred, followed by more giggling.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.

She poked her head inside, glancing around and catching Gavin's eyes in the mirror.

"Jesus Christ Lindsay. Turney says we're shagging and you just open the door anyway?"

"Maybe she wanted to join us?" Meg grinned. She was sitting on the side of the bathtub, Gavin's foot on her lap wrapped in some sort of rag, while Gavin was perched on the closed toilet lid, his pant leg rolled up to his knee.

Gavin squawked at the suggestion, staring at Lindsay in horror.

She cast him a disgusted look, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "As if. That was just the fakest impression of sex I've heard since we got stuck sharing a hotel room with Miles. I've heard you two fuck. That is not how you sound when you fuck."

"Oh yeah? How do we sound, then?"

Lindsay just squinted at her, putting back on her _what the fuck_ face.

"Still, I might have been pissing or something."

"Honestly, I'm just surprised you're awake at all. You guys have been in here like twenty minutes."

"What?" Gavin pulled his phone out of his pocket and frowned at it. "I guess we have."

"So what the fuck happened here?" Lindsay asked, nodding toward his elevated leg.

Meg giggled, pulling back the rag to show a bloodstain on it, several of Gavin's toes red as well, though Lindsay couldn't tell quite where it was coming from from her angle. She cringed anyway.

"He thought it'd be a good idea to run across the back yard barefoot."

"I was making sure the fold out still worked," he scolded. "Heaven forbid I do something nice."

"Heaven forbid you put on some damn shoes before you go outside."

"I've been across that yard barefoot hundreds of times."

"Drunk?"

"Of course!"

"In the dark?"

"Yes!"

"Both at the same time?"

"Of course I- well, I suppose I've only made the trek to, never back from."

Lindsay covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Gavin had reached the legendary _so drunk he sounded fresh off the boat_ level, his eyes bloodshot and hair messier than normal. He ran his hand back through it, pulling visibly, then shook his head and squinted up at Lindsay.

"I tripped on up the stairs, alright? Caught my toe on an edge, ripped it right up."

"Owww," Lindsay said, wincing as he mimed his foot getting caught on the step. "Okay, that sounds like it was definitely not a good idea. Don't do that again."

He scowled. "Wasn't planning on it."

"When the fuck did that even happen? I didn't even notice you'd gone outside."

"You were pretty absorbed in that game earlier. Something about 'winning the rights to being the one true Lindsay'."

"Fair enough. You gotta admit, that was pretty serious business."

"I guess?"

"It gets too damn confusing when there's more than one. I don't know how the fucking Matts and Adams do it."

"Is that why Michael's determined to overtake Burnie?"

Lindsay laughed. "God, I don't think anyone had called him Michael in decades until mine came along." She shook her head, laughing to herself.

She watched Gavin check his phone again, making a face at it and trying to shove it back into his pocket.

"You good to walk?"

"I… maybe? Shouldn't I wrap this up first?"

"Fair enough."

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Dunno. Griffon said to get you guys, and something about wanting to play something that didn't involve alcohol."

Meg sighed, pulling back the rag to check Gavin's foot more closely. "I hope she realizes it's way too late to do the dishes."

"Say what now?" Lindsay asked.

"Sometimes when Griffon says she wants to play something, it's 'dishwasher tetris'," Meg explained. "Which is just, jam as much in one load as possible so there's enough clean for tomorrow. Classic parent bullshit."

"Sounds like something Geoff would come up with."

"Oh, for sure," Gavin agreed. "He's been pulling that nonsense on me since the first time I stayed here."

"...And you still fall for it?" Lindsay asked.

"What? No! It's just, when Griffon tells you to do something, you do it."

"It's true," Meg agreed.

"Well, if that's the case, I really hope your injury exempts you," Lindsay said, trying to boost herself up on the counter to sit on it but not quite making it, "and I'd appreciate knowing which glasses aren't important or valuable in case I feel the need to tap out."

Meg gasped, grinning wide. "You wouldn't!"

"Nah, of course I wouldn't." She tried hopping onto the counter again, missed again, then finally made it the third try.

"Looks like it stopped bleeding," Gavin said, poking at a skinned spot and wincing. "God, that's awful."

"Stop touching it, dummy," Meg scolded, shooing his hand away. "Linds, can you see if there's still neosporin in the medicine cabinet behind you?"

"Roger that."

She dug through the cabinet and the drawer beside her, passing Meg everything needed to wrap up Gavin's foot, slipping off the counter while trying to duck the door and proving her own level of intoxication in the process. Meg tried to line the things up on the bathtub's edge, settling for putting them on the floor after dropping the little tube of ointment twice, and tossed the bloodied washcloth into the tub. Gavin gagged at the sight of it, trying to reach to turn the water on. When it became clear he couldn't reach without getting up, Lindsay leaned over them, tugging on the knob and then pushing it back in to try and balance strong enough to rinse the cloth but low enough to not drown them out.

"Why were you checking the sofa bed, anyway?" Lindsay asked, trying to make conversation to distract Gavin as Meg started patting his toes with an alcohol wipe. "Something happen to your old mattress?"

He blinked, opening his mouth to speak but having to hiss from the pain before he actually could. "No, it's- _ahhh, Christ_. The mattress is fine." He blinked again. "Wait, Michael didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what? What else did I miss?"

"It's been over an hour since we were locked up in that laundry room and you still haven't heard a lick of it?"

Lindsay shrugged. "We haven't exactly had a chance to talk."

"Griffon said you're not allowed to take Uber home tonight and you two are to sleep on the fold out in my old room."

"Ew, and listen to you guys have sex?"

Meg stuck out her tongue. "Don't worry, Michael said the same thing."

Lindsay laughed.

"He's leaving out the part where it's his fault," Meg added, unpeeling a bandaid from its packaging. It took her several tries to open it, eventually ripping it with her teeth and nearly dropping the bandaid.

"Is not," he grumbled.

"Is so," she countered, spitting out the torn-off scrap. "You're the one who told Griffon that's what we were arguing about."

"So??? I had to say _something_. If anything, it's Michael's fault for dragging us all in there."

"You decided to come all on your own."

"And I'm glad I did. Griffon would have caught you two for sure if not for me."

Lindsay's attention jerked upwards from where she was watching Meg dress Gavin's wound. "What? Caught you what?"

"Nothing big. We kissed. It was kind of an apology, really."

Lindsay bit her lip. "Oh."

Meg raised an eyebrow at her. "I seem to remember you promising me a kiss too," ."

She smirked, turning away and laughing. "Hell _yeah_ I did."

"So when am I gonna get it?"

"Preferably some time your hands aren't covered in Gavin foot germs."

Meg scoffed. "God, why are you so _picky_?" she said, but fell into giggles before she could even finish.

"Well, _I_ still want kisses even if you're covered in my foot germs," Gavin countered, inspecting his foot before rolling down his pant leg.

"Sounds good to me," Meg grinned, taking two tries to stand up and bracing herself on Gavin's leg on the second. She laughed again as she nearly fell forward onto him, planting her first kiss onto his cheek then finding his lips for her next one.

Lindsay blushed harder, trying to turn further away but finding herself faced with their reflection if she got her back all the way to them. It wasn't that she really minded - they were mushy and flirty in front of her constantly, after all. It was that, as drunk as she was, she couldn't watch Meg's head tilt like that without wanting to touch the exposed curve of her neck, couldn't watch her climb onto his lap and shamelessly rock her hips without wondering how it felt to be in Gavin's position.

She shut her eyes, folding her lips and taking a long breath through her nose.

"Okay, break it up, you two," she said as she turned back around. "I know stalling in here during Griffon's official 30 dry minutes sounds like a great plan, but I left Michael alone out there with them and someone's probably in a headlock by now."

"Kiss first," Meg demanded, leaning back on Gavin's lap and balancing herself by holding tight to his shoulder. "Please?"

"You're lucky you're fucking cute when you're drunk, because normally persistence annoys the fuck out of me."

She leaned over Meg so that the top of the older girl's head was resting on her chest and she was looking down at a solid grin. Meg made a kissy noise at her, making Lindsay laugh as she tilted her head down to kiss her nose first, then her lips, lingering there until she heard Meg sigh out a soft moan.

"That better?" she asked.

"It'll do," Meg conceded, nearly tumbling backwards when Lindsay stepped away and clinging all the harder to Gavin to keep her balance.

"C'mon then," she said, motioning toward the door and starting to turn.

She was stopped by a grip on her wrist.

"Oh come on, I'll give you more later," she said, turning back toward the couple.

Gavin was staring at her.

Lindsay looked down, seeing that the hand wrapped around her wrist was his, not Meg's, a fact she should have guessed from sheer size difference alone but that would have required less inebriation and more observation.

"Hi?" she asked.

He pulled his hand back. "Ah, nothing," he said dismissively.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

She turned toward him and he looked away.

Lindsay licked her lips, leaning in slowly, resting her hand on the wall near his head. Gavin looked back up at her, startled, and swallowed audibly.

"You wanted a kiss, too?" she asked quietly, a smirk forming on her lips.

"I," he said, his voice catching, prompting him to cough into his hand. "I might."

She heard Meg hold her breath as she leaned closer, Gavin recoiling for a moment before shutting his eyes.

Lindsay wondered if she'd noticed how soft his lips were the first time, or if the alcohol was just deluding her.

When she tried to pull back, he followed, lips pressing to hers more insistently. Lindsay let out a gasp, stopping in her tracks and letting the kiss linger.

Gavin let her slip away just long enough to grab a breath and tilt his head, changing his angle to trap her lips between his and squeeze them slowly. She sighed, leaning her weight onto her hand again and letting herself sink further into him.

All the sensations from the week before came pouring back into her. They were blurred and slowed by inebriation, the last shots from her and Geoff's card game still setting in, but the memory surged through her mind none the less.

Their awkward caution from their first kiss was gone, replaced by slow and steady kisses that came with surprising ease. Lindsay let her teeth graze across his lips, not quite nibbling, and each time Gavin found a new corner of her mouth to kiss to stay just out of reach of her teeth. There were no smiles plastered on their faces, but it wasn't from lack of enjoyment on either of their parts. Rather, they were simply so lost in sensation that the only expression left between them was a subtle knit of Lindsay's brow as she used the last bit of her concentration to hold her stance against the wall. Gavin just leaned back further, completely relaxed despite being pinned by both girls at once.

While her own experiences with him had been more frantic, Lindsay could recognize Gavin's almost lazy motions from what she'd watched him do with Michael at least a dozen times. She wanted to push him, to urge him to kiss her more deeply, but there was something far too natural and familiar about his slow but firm movements.

There was a bump against her neck as Meg leaned her head back to Lindsay's shoulder and began to nuzzle her. She ducked her face under Lindsay's chin, breathing hotly against her throat. Lindsay shivered, her arm going momentarily weak at the attention so her weight leaned into them both.

Gavin let out a surprised sound at the stumble, grabbing the edge of the counter instinctively in case she fell. Once the moment had passed and he felt Lindsay's pressure lift he was sure she had her footing back, he went straight back to kissing her, letting his lips brush so lightly against the slickness of hers that it almost tingled.

She let out the quietest of all moans, and he answered her in kind.

Meg trailed a soft row of kisses under Lindsay's jaw, nudging her head to tilt a little further each time as she travelled toward her ear. Her skin was taut but almost cool in comparison with Meg's teasing kisses, meaning the heat was contributing to her reactions just as much as the physical brush of lips.

Gavin captured her bottom lip between his, sucking softly and humming, pleased with himself when Lindsay followed his pull.

Meg's lips pressed into the underside of her jaw, finding a place they could sit flush; she licked gently, then, hearing Lindsay's voice rise in a moan, sucked at her skin, purring all the while.

Even closed, Lindsay felt her eyes roll back at the combination of sensations. Intoxication always made every touch feel more intense and her veins run hotter, making her reactions louder and her eagerness rise. She felt her arm shaking from leaning on it so long, but didn't want to pull back just yet, even if it was to find a way she could sit on Gavin's lap too. She tried to press forward into the kiss again, licking invitingly at Gavin's lips, but she could feel her balance slipping.

She pulled back, breathing much harder than she expected to, Meg's lips following her neck until she stood up to far for her to reach any longer.

Gavin's eyes blinked open, leaving him gazing up at her, a dazed smile forming across his face.

"Good?" Lindsay asked him.

He chuckled, taking a deep breath to come back to his senses. "Maybe," he teased. Lindsay rolled her eyes, trying to hide her fond smirk. "Yeah," he corrected. "Yeah, good."

Meg leaned back so her head was resting on Lindsay's chest again, reaching up to wrap her hand behind the taller girl's head. "How come he gets a better kiss than me?"

"I dunno. Maybe because you've had way more kisses than him already?"

"Not tonight I haven't."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Fine," she said, leaning down to give Meg another kiss.

Meg wasted no time at all letting her tongue greet Lindsay's lips. They didn't quite line up right at the unfamiliar angle, but it left little to be desired. She moaned as she reached her other arm up as well, so that she was all but hanging from Lindsay's neck, her head cradled between her own arm and Lindsay's chest, her stomach still pressed against Gavin's.

Lindsay sought out places to nibble her lips, finding herself breathless again and sure she'd spent far too much time in the bathroom by now, but also finding herself not quite caring. One hand reached up to trail along Meg's arm, giving it a few gentle squeezes before dwelling on her collarbone and tracing across it. Meg arched further still, pulling Lindsay more firmly against her, craning her neck almost to the point of pain in her hunger for her friend's lips.

Lindsay's nails grazed the exposed ridge of her throat, and Meg pulled back from the kiss, whispering Lindsay's name almost desperately.

They heard Gavin groan as his hips rolled beneath her, bringing a surprised gasp to to Meg's lips that Lindsay felt as a quiver under her fingers before she heard inches from her face. She hung there for a moment, making no attempt to kiss her again, then inhaled with a squeak when he did it again.

"Gavin," Meg half-whispered, half-hissed, dropping her hand from Lindsay's neck to grab his shoulder and squeeze. She bit her lip and hummed, other hand tightening in Lindsay's hair.

From above her Lindsay caught her breath, processing what was happening in front of her. She let her hands both slide away from Meg, nuzzling her head with her cheek as she stood up slowly. She had to guide Meg's hand free of her hair, sighing when she whined and tried to reach back for her.

"We need to slow down," Lindsay murmured against Meg's hair, holding her by the wrist and stroking there with her thumb. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too drunk. Even if I felt like trying to make this kind of call…" she trailed off, taking a deep breath. She glanced up, catching Gavin's eyes for a moment, only for both to avert them in unison. She hadn't meant to make such an admission - that she was at a point where she'd even _consider_ it - but that only proved her point of them being too drunk.

"Even then… Well, let's face it. None of us have volume control _sober_."

They all laughed, sincere but nervous.

"You're right," Meg said softly, turning her head to find Lindsay's cheek and kiss it. "Even if I do kind of hate you for it."

"Sorry," Lindsay teased, sticking out her tongue as she stood up fully. "I mean, I can leave you two in here if you want to use that?"

"God no," Gavin said without hesitation.

"Oh?"

"You're absolutely right, we'd wake up the whole house."

"Then head on out to your room?"

"Are you joking? Do you know how much shit Geoff would give me for the next _month_ if we were that obvious?"

"He can give you more than he already does?"

"Yes?! Christ, it doesn't matter much anyway, just thinking about Geoff at all and I'm completely flaccid anyway."

Meg raised an eyebrow at him. "You sure about that?"

"It's getting there," he grumbled.

Meg giggled and kissed him on the nose.

"Well, I'll still give you two a minute to straighten yourselves out," Lindsay suggested, reaching for the door.

"You should Probably do something about your hair, first," Meg warned.

She looked at the mirror, sighing in exasperation when she saw how badly Meg's wandering fingers had messed up her ponytail. "Gee, thanks," she grumbled, but flashed them both a smile anyway.

Meg helped her straighten it out, though not without hopping onto her toes to steal one more kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

"There you assholes are! Did you have to walk to walmart for the fucking bandaids?"

Michael barely ducked the pillow Lindsay plucked off the chair closest to her and hurled at his head. It bounced off the back of the couch and onto the coffee table, where he snatched it from and launched it back at her.

She was on him before it even left his hand, sending him into hysterical laughter as she bent him over the arm of the couch and pinned his arms behind his back.

"What'd we miss?" Meg asked Griffon over the din.

"We picked the game already," she answered, shrugging.

"Yeah?"

"Uno." She motioned to the stacks of cards waiting on either end of the coffee table.

Meg laughed. "Really?"

"Geoff vetoed Cards Against Humanity," Michael called, giving another half-hearted shove at Lindsay and knocking her into the other side of the couch.

"Damn right I did. I'm too tired to try and understand your shitty excuses for humor right now."

"We don't even get a vote?" Gavin asked.

"No, you took too damn long. You snooze you lose," Geoff snorted.

Gavin looked to Griffon helplessly, who shrugged. "We gave you five minutes after Lindsay went to find you. I think that's fair."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Lindsay said, turning sideways to lounge her feet across Michael's lap. "Had to wash my eyes out with bleach."

"Okay, when I said no banging in my laundry room, that goes for my bathroom as well."

Gavin sputtered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "We weren't. I was taking a leak and Lindsay never learned to knock."

"Hey, I knocked."

"Opening it before anyone answers is just as bad as not knocking."

Lindsay raised her hands and shrugged.

"Who's dealing?" Meg asked, finding a seat beside Griffon.

"I vote Geoff, since he was so gung-ho he couldn't wait for us," Gavin suggested, sitting beside her.

"Hey, I could have said no game at all. You idiots are lucky."

"I'll fucking do it," Michael said, reaching for the closer stack and giving it a rough shuffle.

The game went quickly for the most part. There were a few hiccups where people couldn't agree on whether the rules said to draw one or until you could play, and when Michael got so playfully angry at Lindsay for slamming him with draw 4s two turns in a row that he pushed her over and wrestled with her, their cards scattering to the ground. It took them so long to sort out whose had been whose that the others skipped over them for not one but two rounds.

By fifteen minutes in, a few hands were dwindling (though Lindsay's was easily double anyone else's) and they'd mostly started to joke less and get more serious about winning.

Meg was losing a different game, however. Her eyes had grown heavy a few minutes before, and when he had to nudge her awake to play for the third turn in a row, Gavin finally just asked her if she'd like to go to bed.

She sighed and accepted, telling him she'd see him in the room and wobbling to her feet.

Gavin caught her, laying his cards on the table and standing up to steady her. He wasn't much better - but he'd mistaken sixes for eights twice already, so no one was surprised.

"Nooo. You stay and play," she whined, trying to push his arm off.

"I've been tired for ages. Griffon's got this in the bag, anyway. Might as well not prolong the torture."

"Oh, so now my game choices are torture?" Geoff asked.

"At 3:30 in the bloody morning they are," he shot back.

"Get out of my house!"

The two made faces at each other as the couple left, play resuming only after the back door had clunked shut and the creaking of their footsteps down the steps had subsided, just in case one of them managed to fall again.

Griffon did, indeed, have it in the bag. She won just a few turns later, Michael managing to call Uno on her once but forgetting the second time.

"Bullshit," Geoff complained, throwing his cards down on the table. "I only had two cards left."

"Well let's play for second, then," Lindsay suggested. "We could play lightening rules. I'll grab the shot glasses."

"No, I'm done," Geoff said, collapsing against the back of the couch.

"Party pooper."

"It's three goddamn thirty in the fucking morning. I want my damn sleep."

"Michael?"

He shrugged. "No fun with just two of us."

"Fair enough. Shot for the road, then?"

"That, my love, is a waste of precious booze. Let's do it."

They did exactly that, pausing to help Griffon load the dishwasher along the way as Geoff put away the game.

"Goodnight, dad!" Michael called behind them when they finally reached the back door.

"It's past your bedtime, shoo," Geoff answered, waving them dismissively.

When the door slammed shut, Griffon sighed fondly, shutting the dishwasher and crossing the room to close the doors and turn off the lights they'd left on. When Geoff came up behind her and gave her a hug, she chuckled.

"Next time, you're being the responsible one."

He snorted. "Fat chance of that."

 

* * *

 

 

Across the yard, Michael and Lindsay made it into Gavin's rooms surprisingly quietly, the door cooperating, though Lindsay's shout just before when Michael grabbed her ass was definitely loud enough to be heard from the house.

They spoke in whispers and hand motions as they made their way to the folded out bed, kicking their shoes off by the door and losing a few more pieces of clothing at the foot of it. Both were left in just their shirts and underwear, exactly the right balance of modesty and comfort for sleeping six feet from your best friends.

They were more than drunk enough to think fooling around still sounded good, despite the circumstances.

Michael scooted to the middle of the bed, legs out in front of him, beckoning Lindsay to come join him. She giggled, crawling over to him and nuzzling her way up his chest before starting in on a kiss, his hands already groping her through her shirt.

"Lindsay?" came a soft, groggy voice from above them just as she straddled his thighs. "That you guys?"

"Shit," Michael whispered under his breath. "Don't answer," he added as Lindsay looked up.

She held her finger up to shoosh him. "Go back to sleep, Meg. It's just a dream."

"You're not a dream, silly," she called back, giggling drunkenly. "You're a Lindsay. And I'm a Meg who needs cuddles."

"I'm sure Gavin needs cuddles too."

"Gavin's all cuddled out. I think he's asleep."

"That must be nice," Michael mumbled. Lindsay glared at him; it was ineffective, since the only light was the moon filtering in through the glass door, all of it on his face and none on hers.

"You should come cuddle me."

"I'm gonna cuddle Michael."

"No you're not," she laughed, "you're gonna fuck him!"

"Now why would I do a thing like that?"

"Cuz he's hot," Meg suggested, "and cuz you love him."

"She's got you there," Michael admitted. Lindsay swatted at his arm.

"If I come cuddle for a minute, will you go to sleep after? You sound really tired, honey."

"Just one minute?"

"Just one."

"But you said later."

"It already was later before."

"Five minutes."

"Two minutes."

"Four minutes."

"Two minutes."

"Two and a half minutes."

Lindsay sighed, shaking her head in amusement. "Okay. Two and a half."

Meg cheered as Lindsay turned around, and only then did she notice that Meg's head had been hanging off the edge of the loft the whole time, though she vanished when she started to move.

Michael groaned in complaint, reaching out after her and grabbing her arm. "What about meee?" he asked.

"I'll be back down in under three minutes," Lindsay promised, leaning to give him a kiss.

"But what about meee?" he repeated.

"You can come cuddle too!" Meg suggested.

"Shhhh. You're gonna wake up Gavvers."

"No I won't," Meg giggled, flopping back on the bed audibly.

Lindsay climbed up beside her much more carefully. She'd never been on Gavin's loft before, and her first thought upon crawling up the mattress was to wonder how he'd managed not to fall off.

It was quickly followed by the realization he probably had. Repeatedly.

She stretched out next to Meg, who promptly wrapped her arms around her, snuggling up under her chin. Lindsay hugged her back, hands jumping momentarily when she realized she was touching bare skin.

"You're not naked, are you?" Lindsay asked, cautiously. Her skin had an all-too-familiar slight dampness to it, one that meant it had only been a few minutes since she'd been exerting herself, though she wasn't about to be that direct.

"Not completely," Meg assured her.

She proved it by tugging at one of Lindsay's arms and resting her hand to her hip to feel the band of her underwear.

"Should I be?" she purred, wrapping her arm back over Lindsay and snuggling back in.

Lindsay's eyes darted nervously to Gavin's sleeping form underneath the blanket behind Meg. "He's not naked either, right?"

"No, silly. We knew you guys were coming back so we got our undies back on."

"That's very nice of you."

"Thanks!"

They fell into silence again, Lindsay listening to Meg's quiet breathing and content sighs, feeling her own eyelids get heavy.

"Has it been three minutes yet?" Michael asked from somewhere near their feet.

"Go 'way," Meg mumbled, voice muffled against Lindsay's chest.

"Make me," he countered, grabbing at her foot only for her to thrash away.

"Noooo. I want Lindsay to stay here. Let Lindsay stay here."

"A deal's a deal, Meg. You're way past two and a half minutes."

"You're so greedy!"

"What did we talk about earlier?"

Meg sat halfway up, casting Michael a pout. "This isn't public, though!"

They stared at each other for several seconds, Michael frozen and struggling to keep his face on her eyes instead of her breasts, bare and illuminated in the moonlight.

"Uh," he managed.

Lindsay propped herself up on one elbow, shrugging. "Not sure how that's relevant, but she's right, it's not."

"See?"

He growled, reaching for her foot.

There was a sudden groan from Gavin's side of the bed. "Could you all kindly keep it down? Christ," he complained, pulling the covers over his head.

"You keep it the fuck down," Michael countered, going for his foot instead.

Gavin kicked, hard, only succeeding in encouraging Michael to tighten his grip. When he tried again anyway, Michael let go, hauling himself the rest of the way up the ladder instead. "You got a problem?" he asked, pounding his chest once.

"Yes, it's called you barging into my bed uninvited."

"Hey, I was invited," Lindsay pointed out.

Gavin spun around so quickly, startled by Lindsay's voice being so close, that he tumbled off the actual mattress and into one of the beanbags that framed it.

"Guess that makes this spot mine," Michael proclaimed, dragging himself forward and flopping face first down in Gavin's spot, though Gavin's legs were still competing for the real estate.

"Do I get to be a sammich?" Meg asked, looking down at Michael and grinning.

"Eh, I'll think about it," he told her, then buried his face in the pillow.

"It's my bed," Gavin snapped, freeing his legs only to flop over on top of Michael.

"Not any more it's not," Michael grumbled, trying to push up far enough to dump Gavin back off. "You moved out, so that makes it Geoff's."

"It's the principle," Gavin insisted, trying to put Michael into a headlock to avoid being dropped.

Meg was laughing so hard she'd started coughing.

By the time all the pushing and shoving calmed down, Meg was less a sandwich and more a victorious-feeling blanket. She was sprawled, facedown, diagonally across Michael's back and Lindsay's front. Gavin's arm was still wedged beneath Michael, but around the time his ear got licked to keep him down he'd decided to let it stay there. The blankets were too tangled to wedge more than a foot under without starting all over, and they were all well past wanting to do that.

He let his hand trace Meg's back, a bit of a reach from where he was, but it was worth it when she turned her head to smile at him and blow a kiss.

"Still wanna go back down?" Lindsay asked quietly after a few minutes, letting a hand reach up to touch his shoulder.

"Nah. Too comfy," Michael mumbled.

"Same."

"Good."

"Goodnight?"

"Goodnight."

"Nigh-night~."

Gavin didn't add to the chorus, snoring softly instead.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Griffon slowly slid the door open, stepping over the shoes discarded at the door and tiptoeing her way across the room.

If Gavin wanted waffles, he was going to help her make waffles, regardless of how hungover he was.

She glanced at the couch she'd helped make up for Michael and Lindsay the night before. Neither of them were there, and she didn't remember seeing the van out front when she'd said goodbye to some groggy friends that morning. She shrugged; she wasn't sure how she hadn't heard them cut back through the house on their way out, but she was almost glad they'd gone home early, since it meant less time spent over the stove.

She stepped up onto the first rung of the ladder, just high enough to leave her eye level with the floor of the loft and let her see a foot sticking out from under the blankets.

Griffon smirked to herself. She'd been waking Gavin up the same way since he was 18, and she wasn't about to stop just because his girlfriend was in the bed too.

She grabbed the ankle in front of her, pulling it. When she nearly got kicked in the face, she just pulled harder.

"What the fu-" came not at all Gavin's voice as the foot's owner sat bolt upright.

Griffon just stared at Lindsay, at a complete loss of words.

 


	14. Five Nights in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You four go get some clothes on. Preferably your own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a hurry to post this before I run to work, so it might be a bit more typo-y than normal. I'll fix it when I can, if anyone sees anything!
> 
> As usual, chapters inflated further than expected so things I meant to have happen in this chapter didn't happen yet, sorry. Not trying to intentionally draw this out, just don't know how to shut up.

"I'm not going to tell Geoff," Griffon said sternly.

She was standing over the stove, where the others could hear her but not see her expression. Michael, Gavin, and Meg were seated around the table in total silence, exchanging nervous glances with one another but otherwise stick still. Griffon had requested someone set the table, and Lindsay was doing so as carefully as possible, every little clink of dishes feeling painfully loud between the tension hanging in the air and the hangovers everyone was nursing. Griffon had had the courtesy to let them all get a bit more dressed before she herded them in, so everyone was in, at the least, Tshirts and underwear; Lindsay was the only one who'd managed to grab real pants, and those had turned out to be Gavin's pajamas, so while they were far too tight on her, she'd taken the responsibility as the only one clothed below mid-thigh.

"And the reason I'm not going to tell him is because whatever you four have going on, the last thing you need is him giving you shit about it."

Michael gripped the edge of the table, speaking without even thinking. "There's nothing _going_ on!"

"Michael," Griffon said, giving him a warning glare.

"But-"

"Michael," Meg echoed, reaching over to rest her hand on his. She slowly raised her gaze from his hands to his face, visually pleading with him until she felt his grip soften under her hand.

He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth and finding a cabinet to stare at before.

Griffon surveyed them, waiting to continue speaking until Lindsay finally took a seat on Michael's other side. As she took his hand to hold it, hidden on his lap under the table, and Meg let hers slip away.

"I'm not going to make you tell me what's going on, either. If you want to tell me, good. Just quit fucking lying to me."

"I'm not lying though!"

She stared at Michael, feeling much too exhausted for having been up less than an hour. "Fine. Tell me your version of the story."

"That damn couch is musty as hell. Tell me you would have slept on it."

Griffon sighed, setting down her spatula and holding up her knuckles to show off her tattoo.

Michael narrowed his eyes. Everyone else quietly looked away.

"Even if I wanted to believe you, you're a shitty liar, everyone else is shitty backup to your lies, and a few of you were far too naked for me to even believe that."

Michael grumbled and stared at his empty plate. "Fine."

Griffon waited to make sure there were no further objections before she spoke again. "Good," she said, "that means we can eat."

Aside from a few hushed "pass the syrup"s, they were dead silent as they ate. Nervous glances were exchanged every few bites, but otherwise they tried to avoid eye contact, and even comforting hand squeezes under the table were kept to a minimum.

"Griffon," Lindsay said some ten minutes later, much too quietly for it to seem like Lindsay at all.

"Hmm?"

"Griffon, we weren't... we didn't..." she stared at the table, sighing out her nose and trying to steel herself.

"Babe," Michael whispered, reaching over to rest his hand on Lindsay's arm, only to feel it clench.

Griffon set her fork down, sitting up straight and crossing her arms. "You weren't?"

"We... we didn't have sex last night."

Gavin tried to hide the squeaking noise he made by coughing.

Griffon frowned, tilting her head as she considered the statement. Lindsay slowly managed to raise her gaze to stare Griffon in the eyes, face held carefully stoic.

"That much I'd gathered," Griffon said finally, shaking her head slightly. "Some of you were too clothed for that, and you were all so drunk I'm sure coordinating an orgy was out of the question."

Lindsay took a slow, deep breath, too cautious to be truly relieved.

"Not just last night though. We haven't had sex, at all."

Griffon raised an eyebrow.

"Well I mean, obviously, _we've_ had sex," she said, motioning between herself and Michael, "But _we_ haven't been having sex. Like. Us and them," she explained, nodding toward Meg and Gavin.

Griffon rolled her eyes.

Michael slid his hand down Lindsay's arm until their fingers interlocked, and she squeezed for dear life.

"Listen. Geoff and I are hardly strangers toward... non-nuclear lifestyles," she explained, reaching up to brush her bangs back, "so you don't have to hide anything from me. I've known all of you more than long enough to know you're all quite allosexual, and given the number of times I've caught you all kissing in the last few months - Meg, Michael, don't give me that look, none of you are as sneaky as you think you are - I find it _very_ hard to believe whatever you have going on is just a pajama party."

Meg and Gavin shrank in their chairs, exchanging a look of distress at the idea of being found out. Michael and Lindsay only squeezed each other's hands again, still looking determinedly at Griffon.

"We really haven't though," Gavin insisted quietly, still staring at his plate. "I know where you're coming from, really, and I'm certain if I were you I'd believe the same. But nothing like that's happened."

Griffon took a deep breath, surveying the four again, watching their expressions as she dwelled at eye contact with each of them.

"Fine. I believe you," she announced.

"You do?" Michael and Meg asked in unison, Michael's voice cracking.

"This is the first time all weekend your stories have matched up. It's a bit hard not to believe you at this point."

They all relaxed at that, a mix of slumped back in their chairs and arms barely missing their plates.

(Gavin's still hit his spoon, however, knocking it off the table and leaving him cursing as he bent over to pick it up.)

"I know I said you don't have to tell me, and that's still true so feel free to ignore this question, but, now you've got me curious. This isn't the first time you've all wound up in bed before, is it?"

There were looks of intense concentration all around as they had to think about the question.

"Technically? Yeah," Michael finally said, shrugging.

"Technically?"

"Well..." Meg answered, nibbling at her lip. "We've definitely all fallen asleep together before. It's just usually on sofas."

Lindsay nodded. "We have a strict 'no beds' rule."

Griffon made a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "You've got rules?"

"Oops," Lindsay mumbled, leaning back in her chair again.

"Well, _yeah_ ," Michael answered once it became clear no one else would. "Doesn't everybody?"

"Define 'everybody'," Griffon countered.

Michael put on the biggest grin he could manage, digging his own nails into his bare leg as he spoke. "When you play a game, of course," he said, using every ounce of his voice acting training to keep his voice from sounding tight.

"A game?" Griffon asked.

"A game?" Gavin echoed, albeit barely above a whisper.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he heard Gavin right as he went to speak again, but powered on, voice faltering for only a syllable. "Yeah. C'mon, don't tell me you've never played Chicken."

While Michael was undoubtedly the best among them at improvising, it also meant he was the one Griffon had stopped trusting first. Seeing her face grow skeptical, Meg jumped to his defense quickly.

"I'm winning!" she said cheerfully.

Lindsay grabbed at both their hands under the table, holding them tight as close to her lap as she could manage without making them lean.

Michael was shaking.

"...You kids are something else," Griffon sighed, pushing off from the table and standing up. "I'll get the dishes, you four go get some clothes on. Preferably your own."

 

* * *

 

 

"Meg, can I talk to you for a second?"

She looked up from her phone and froze at Griffon's words.

"Sure," she answered, trying to sound carefree as the older woman sat down beside her.

Meg and Gavin were the last two guests left at the Ramseys', everyone else (save the friend staying in the guest room) departing over the course of the morning. They'd tried to leave an hour prior, shortly before Michael and Lindsay, but then Gavin's hangover had defeated his breakfast and Geoff had thrown him in the shower to "puke to his heart's content". Meg had spent most of the time since laying on the couch with an ice pack on her forehead and her second gatorade in hand, carefully sitting up far enough to sip from it every couple of minutes. Griffon had asked her nicely to not drive them home until her headache cleared up, and had tried to tell the Joneses the same, but Michael had been surprisingly lucid and she'd eventually relented on the condition he drove.

"I know Gavin seems like he's super-adventurous, and has probably been exposed to a lot with how long he lived with us," Griffon began, sighing almost wistfully, "but at the end of the day, that kid is really innocent, and you're his first serious relationship."

Meg nodded. "He's doing really well despite that. At least, I think so."

"He makes you happy, then?"

"More than happy. I've never felt this comfortable around anyone before. I truly, definitely love him."

"Good," Griffon said, smiling.

Griffon didn't look away after that, and Meg gritted her teeth. Not wanting to delay the inevitable, she asked, "Why?"

"Please be careful with him."

"Pffft, be careful? With Gavin? Please. I can barely keep up with his antics most of the time."

"I know. He's a handful, believe me, I know."

"Then why are you telling me to be careful?"

"Because he trusts you, Meg."

"...So?" she asked, trying not to sound hurt. She was sure Griffon didn't mean she was untrustworthy, but what did she mean?

"He'd do just about anything if you asked him to."

Meg nodded again, more slowly.

"So be careful that he actually wants to do whatever it is you're all doing, and isn't just going along with it to please you."

"Gavin wouldn't do that. He won't even go to new restaurants to please me half the time," she said, laughing nervously.

"I know," Griffon agreed, "Geoff's the same way. But at the end of the day, I know I've put Geoff in some situations that he said he was fine with at the time, but later he admitted he hated." She met Meg's raised eyebrow with a slight chuckle before adding, "To the point that we have a full-time safeword now. And yes, he's used it to get out of trying restaurants."

Meg managed to laugh at that.

"There's nothing weird or unhealthy about whatever's going on between you four, regardless of what it is. Everyone experiments at your age, if that's really all it is, and if it's something more, just remember Geoff and I had a lovely Thanksgiving with a fellow artist and her quintuple last year."

Meg rolled her eyes, but felt her chest tighten at the words "something more" and wrung her hands together.

"He trusts you, Meg. And he's always been a little blind around people he trusts."

"I'm glad you're worried, really. But Gavin's been on board since day one... he... he and Michael have kissed without me even being around."

"He trusts Michael, too."

Meg laughed. "Fair enough, but shouldn't we trust Gavin then, too?"

Griffon smirked. "You got me there."

With one arm she pulled Meg against her side, giving her a hug that Meg returned, finally relaxing again with her head on Griffon's shoulder. "As much as I hate to say it, Gavin really is like a kid to me, or a younger brother. He basically came with the deal of being with Geoff, and I've been to a reasonable amount of trouble ever since." Meg nodded, hugging her a little tighter. "You're all sort of like kids to me, and really like kids to Geoff. But at the same time, you're taking away my little boy. Either way, I'm worried about him, probably more than I should be."

Meg nodded slowly, then laughed. "It's okay mom, I love you too."

Griffon chuckled, letting her free from the hug and smoothing her hair back. "I guess what my point is, make sure you're sure you all want the same thing out of this, and that you're not just assuming the others feel the same as you do."

Meg nodded again. "Okay."

"Please."

"Don't worry Griffon, I promise. I'd never want to hurt him."

 

* * *

 

 

Monday morning found Michael bent over his computer, reading through forums and grumbling to himself as the others prepared for AHWU. There were rumors flying around that another Five Nights at Freddy's game was coming out soon, and he'd not yet bothered to record a playthrough of the second one; he'd been trying to leave some breathing room between his version and Mark's this time, because if there was one thing he hated it was looking like he was a bandwagoner when he wasn't actually being one.

(Rage Quit as a concept necessitated bandwagoning. It relied and thrived on it. The weeks where no stupid Indie game had suddenly surged to popularity and he had to go fishing for something were always the most frustrating, because they cost him the most time and brought in the least views.)

"Sup?" Ray asked, tilting his chair back to look over at Michael.

Michael nodded in acknowledgement. "Sup."

"Waiting for this download."

"Cool."

"Right?"

Michael chuckled, turning back to his screen.

"...Hey Ray."

"Yeah?"

"You've got Mark's number still, right?"

"Hell yeah I do, and no you can't have it, I saw him first."

Michael rolled his eyes, hiding his chuckle at Ray's joke. His apparent crush on Markiplier was a favorite Twitter discussion, and his own girlfriend was at the reigns half the time.

He knew that feeling.

"Relax. I just wanted you to send him a message for me."

"Yeah?"

"Ask him if he's got Freddy's 3 yet."

"Alright man, but you're gonna have to remind me later. It's like seven in the morning his time."

"You really think Mark of all people isn't up by 7?"

Ray hummed in consideration, looking pensively at the desk before shrugging. "Yeah, good point. I'll let you know if he responds."

"Thanks," Michael said, tapping Ray on the shoulder with his fist before turning back to his screen.

"'ello Michael my boi," came Gavin's greeting less than 30 seconds later, though the last word was distorted as his chin smooshed too hard against Michael's shoulder. He'd lounged himself almost instantly across the back of Michael's chair, his arms draped over his shoulders and his chin resting on his right one.

Michael sighed, trying to shrug him off to no avail. "Hi, Gavin."

"Ah, come now, what's wrong?"

"I'm just still tired."

"Want me to get you a Red Bull?"

"Maybe later."

"Here, you can have mine, I'll run and grab another," he said, tapping Michael's arm with the cold thing in his hand Michael'd been ignoring until then.

"Okay?"

"You need it more than me."

"You just said you were gonna go get another one."

"Well not right now I'm not."

"You totally should," Ray interjected, "and you should grab me a water while you're at it."

"What, am I an errand boy now?"

Ray muffled a laugh, grinning as he let his chair rest back against Ryan's desk. "Better you than me."

Michael sighed dramatically, turning around and pushing Gavin off in the process. "Hey, Matt. You doing anything?"

"No," Matt said from the couch, not looking up from his phone.

"I'm fucking thirsty. Go get me a goddamn Red Bull."

"Do I have to?"

"Don't make me ask you again."

"Fiiiiine."

"And get Ray a bottle of water while you're at it."

"How about no," he said, already halfway out the door.

"Are you trying to boss my employees around?" Geoff demanded, coming over and resting a hand aggressively on Michael's head.

"Hey, you're the one who told me I needed to earn my raise. I'm just taking on more responsibility, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Right. Don't let me catch you doing it again, asshole," Geoff said. His tone was unimpressed, but his complete lack of a poker face said Michael's joke was more than appreciated.

"Okay, I won't," Michael sing-songed back, grinning innocently.

Geoff rolled his eyes and gave his head a shove before he walked away, grabbing a slip of paper from Jeremy and reading it over.

Matt had returned already - naturally, since the fridge wasn't even ten steps from their door - and set the Red Bull down firmly on Michael's desk.

"That'll be nine dollars," he said, not removing his hand from the can.

"Say whaaaaat?"

"Nine bucks."

"That's kind of a high price for a water and an energy drink, don't you think?"

"Oh, that's not including Ray's tab."

Ray shrugged. "Keep it then."

"Are you fucking serious?" Michael asked, trying not to crack a grin.

"Dead serious."

"These things are like three bucks. Maybe three-fifty, tops."

"Service charge," Matt explained.

"Well, Gavin, guess you better pay the man," Michael said, tilting his head back to look up at him.

Gavin made a distressed sound, looking from Michael's face to the can to Matt and back again. "Why me?"

"I've already got a Red Bull, remember?" he said, holding up the one Gavin had given him and popping it open.

"Well, yes but-" he snorted angrily, crossing his arms impatiently. "I said I'd get it myself!"

"The man's already here, someone's gotta pay him or else he'll never deliver to this house again."

Gavin huffed, snatching the can from Michael's hand so roughly it spilled slightly and storming over to his own seat, chugging the can aggressively. Michael gave a satisfied chuckle, licking the spilled Red Bull off his hand while reaching for the can Matt had brought with the other.

"You guys seriously don't know where to end a joke, do you?" he asked, still holding the can down.

"Of course not."

Matt just sighed, letting go finally and tossing the water to Ray, who nodded in thanks before turning back to his computer. From across the room, Matt produced another can of soda from his pocket, glaring at Michael for a moment before cracking a smile and opening it.

"Kids these days, am I right?" he asked Ray, pointing back at Matt with his thumb.

"I know, right? When I was a noob, I know I knew my place."

"Exactly," Michael agreed.

"Hey, Lads, shut the fuck up over there!" Geoff yelled, situating himself in front of the camera. "Some of us are trying to actually do some fucking work around here."

Right on cue, Gavin scrambled back out of his seat to go make as much of a nuisance of himself as possible.

Part way through filming, Ray leaned over to show Michael the response from Markiplier - he didn't have the game or a clue of when it came out, but he'd text Ray the moment it did so the guys could have a fighting chance of getting out ahead of the pack.

"Cool, thanks," Michael had said, looking back up at the screen. He swapped from the tab he'd been looking something up in to help Geoff during AHWU back to the one with the rumors.

No news wasn't necessarily good news. He needed to get the second game filmed, and he had to do it this week. Of course, that meant turning it into a Rage Quit and saving it for the next week, or finding someone to play it with him for added reactions. And he knew damn well the audience would only want to see one person in that second seat.

"Eyyyy Michael. Whatcha readin, boi?"

"Hey, bud. You feel up to filming a Play Pals today?"

"Sure, why?"

Michael scooted over enough for Gavin to wheel himself up to his desk and see his screen.

"...I think I've changed my mind, actually."

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, they filmed the video during everyone else's lunch, when they could kill the lights and know the only distraction nearby was the B-team sharing a pizza while they worked on some major build.

While his mood had improved considerably from the previous morning, Michael still felt an odd sort of frustration dealing with Gavin. It was far from his fault they'd gotten caught by Griffon - if anything, it was Lindsay's, but in the end he didn't want to point fingers. He'd had less than a week to recover from his conversation with Adam, and less than two days to process the fact Lindsay sincerely wanted to have sex with someone else, before they'd been confronted about their relationship status.

He felt sure they'd answered correctly. They weren't dating, they weren't fucking, they weren't _together_. They just hung out and had fun and sometimes they kissed or cuddled. Sure, it wasn't the most mundane of friendships by any stretch, but it was still a friendship.

But there'd been so many layers of lies tossed around that weekend that he wasn't sure any of them knew what any of the others actually felt anymore, and with filming coming up Thursday it would be at least another week before he could try confronting anyone.

Having Gavin hovering two inches from his shoulder and screaming had caused a lot of questions about why he even wanted to confront anyone, what he even had to confront them _about_ , spiralling around inside his chest until he deemed them too distracting and locked them away in the back of his skull.

Their facecam easily showed the door in the background their whole playthrough, so they knew when Jack and Ray both wandered in and out of the room, Jack showing up to stay about ten minutes early. Michael's first task in editing that afternoon was to trim out those sections of the video; Play Pals tended to run too long as was, and distractions and interruptions were rarely quality content.

But there was another piece he knew he had to leave on the cutting room floor, and it was why he'd made himself busy with other things until everyone had left, and why he was checking that he was alone in the room for the eighteenth time before he skipped to that range of the facecam file.

He had to pull his headset off as soon as he found the section, too embarrassed by the tone in Gavin's voice to relive that many details of the moment. But the exchange was still clear as Gavin hid halfway behind him, then Michael dragged him back up to his actual seat, only for Gavin to start pouting.

Michael had taken Gavin's rapid glancing between the screen and himself as a sign of his genuine fear at the time, but on the replay Gavin made eye contact with his own image on the screen for a split second and his lips twitched into a smirk for that instant. He felt his stomach drop at that knowing look, felt his throat tighten when he saw the replay of Gavin grabbing at his sleeve and giving him puppy eyes. He watched his own hand reach up to pat Gavin's head, could almost feel his hair between his fingers again - fluffier than normal, he hadn't bothered with pomade that morning, and _why did he know what "normal" was for Gavin's hair_ \- and when he heard, "But I'm _scared_ Michael," he wasn't sure if he was actually hearing it from his headset or from the replay in his mind.

Michael watched himself glance nervously around the room, checking each seat and both doors, before he leaned closer. As soon as his hand reached Gavin's cheek, he had to pause the video to make that same sweep of the room, then stared at that pose for several seconds.

Didn't he have photos of him holding Lindsay's face the same way?

Had he really not noticed Gavin's shit-eating grin when he leaned that close, or had he just chosen to ignore it?

He hit play again, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the screen as they first exchanged a few more words, then shared a kiss.

When they pulled apart again, Michael let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and had to shake out his hand from a similarly unconscious grip on the chair arm, wiping his palm's sweat on his jeans.

He'd seen plenty of videos of himself kissing Lindsay, and it always left him smiling. He'd seen the videos his and Ray's fanservice kisses, and over the years the laughter had turned into awkward shrugging. He'd definitely seen both Stream videos of him getting within inches of kissing Gavin, only to pull back at the last moment or for Gavin to turn away.

Now he was frozen at the sight of something he'd done countless times, his heart pounding and his head spinning.

He grappled with his headphones as they pulled away from the kiss, getting them on just in time to hear Gavin's vaguely teasing, "Well, I guess that helps somewhat."

"Good. Now can you shut up and we finish playing this game before everyone else gets back?"

"Why, did you want more time alone with me?" Gavin asked, earning a light punch on the shoulder.

He paused it as Gavin looked into the camera again, grinning his ass off.

Michael winced, gave another glance around the room, then rewound the video to watch it a second time.

And a third.

And a fourth, clutching his headphones tighter to his head to make out every word Gavin had said too far from either of their microphones.

And a fifth, watching as Gavin's fingers clutched onto his arm in a way he hadn't even noticed, refusing to let go even as he gave the screen that look.

Around the ninth time, he accepted that the impressive localized hypergravity effect that kept appearing in his chest wasn't going to go away. Around the fifteenth (he hadn't bothered to count), he realized that if he kept trying then he was going to wind up with Adam Kovic's voice permanently embedded as his conscience.

To Michael's surprise, it wasn't Adam's or even his own words that rang out in his head when he finally selected the section to delete it.

It was Lindsay's.

_"I haven't told her yet."_

He clicked delete and hit enter; yes, he was sure he wanted to delete.

He buried his face in his hands and drew a few hard breaths, exhaling through the narrow space between his palms until his lungs were so empty they burned.

Two minutes later, he all but leapt out of his chair, hitting save, turning off his screen, and literally throwing his headphones onto his seat before storming off to find his wife and get home. He wasn't getting any more work done today.

 

* * *

 

 

"Good morning, nerds!"

Meg's voice was as cheerful as ever as she appeared behind the boys' chairs, Starbucks in hand. She leaned down to kiss Gavin on the cheek as he grabbed his drink from the carrier, thanking her and giving her a proper kiss before she turned to Michael.

"I brought you one, too," she said, smiling and pointing to the one with his name scrawled on the side.

"Oh. Thanks," he said, a little distracted, but he gave her a smile as he grabbed his cup.

"No problem," she answered, leaning down to hug him around the shoulders with one arm.

He blinked when she kissed his temple before standing back up.

"So what are you two up to today?" she asked, finding a relatively clear spot to lean against the edge of their desks.

"Not sure yet," Michael admitted with a shrug. "It's still really early, but if Geoff wanted us here at 8 AM I'm sure he had reason."

"Is Geoff even here yet?" Gavin asked.

Michael snorted. "Of course not."

"Well, as long as it's not more horror games, I'm sure it'll be fun," Meg said, taking a sip her her drink without pulling it from the cardboard. There was one last cup in her holder - statistically, it was for Lindsay. "Poor Gavin was a mess last night."

"Was not," he muttered.

"No, you weren't as much of one as with the first game, but you definitely panicked when you saw Smee sitting in the bathroom door."

"His eyes were glowing! You try dealing with those accursed robots then tell me you're not scared at all."

"Oh, no, I'm sure I'd be terrified," Meg admitted.

Michael shrugged. "Nah, that's done so he's off the hook for backup screamer. At least until the third one comes out."

Gavin made a face at him. Meg smiled, reaching over to pet his hair.

"I'm sure he wanted to film a month's worth of Go or something. I think we ran out again," Michael continued, spinning slowly in his chair to survey the room. He was looking for Kdin, because if anyone know what episode they'd filmed last, it would be him.

His eyes found Ryan instead, who was leaning back in his chair, fingers tented, watching the trio with one eyebrow raised.

"Can I help you?" Michael asked when Ryan's gaze didn't falter after several seconds of being stared at.

"Hmm? Oh," Ryan said, shaking his head. "Nothing, just thinking."

Michael raised an eyebrow at him. Ryan raised his even higher in return, turning so he was side-eyeing them instead.

"You have any idea why Geoff wanted us here this early?"

"I wasn't aware he did," Ryan admitted, shrugging. "I just had daycare dropoff duties and decided to come straight here after."

"Fair enough," Michael said, shrugging too. He watched as Ryan tented his fingers again, this time seemingly staring at the bookshelf, then shook his head and turned back to the others.

"I guess until Jack or Geoff gets here, we've got no clues."

"Go figure."

"Thanks for the coffee though."

"No problem."

She pushed off the desk to leave, only for them to all be distracted by a clunk at the door. Some difficulty with the doorknob later, Ray burst in, excitement on his face.

"Michael, check your email!" he urged. "Mark texted me back."

As Ray dropped into his chair and understanding set in all around, matching expressions of joy and terror grew on Michael and Gavin's faces.

"Well, I guess I know what _we're_ doing, Gavvers," Michael chuckled, pulling up his browser.

"And that's my cue to leave!" Meg announced, standing up and aiming for the build room door.

"Noooo, Turney, don't leave me here!" Gavin begged, grabbing for her arm and pouting when he missed.

"You'll be fine, baby. It's just a game. Besides, Michael will protect you."

"Damn right I will."

He spun around to give Meg a thumbs up while the page loaded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but notice Ryan was still staring, looking more perplexed than ever.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin was miserable enough during the second round of game play that Michael decided they shouldn't power through the game all in one day after all. After they'd stopped to edit and post the first one, he asked Gavin how he'd prefer to break it up, then passed off his agreement as "we can't keep the lights off _all_ day."

Wednesday left Gavin a little shaken when it was all over; everyone knew well that while his reactions were exaggerated, his fear of the games was real.

He pouted when Lindsay tried to tease him about it by parking in the lot of the Chuck E Cheese while they were driving around looking for dinner.

It was meant to be just dinner out together before another in a string of busy weekends. Michael and Gavin would be filming all weekend, and Meg was flying out for a photoshoot and to visit some friends over her birthday, leaving Lindsay alone. She'd already agreed to stay at their house for the weekend to take care of Penny and Smee, and to take care of all the driving, just to help them streamline everything.

Dinner turned into a movie at the Jones', everyone slowly but surely migrating onto the same couch.

The laughter from dinner had died off in a strange way all of them acknowledged but none wanted to be the first to mention. They spent half the movie piled up, Michael leaning against the arm of the couch and Lindsay atop him, acting as a pillow for the others.

The girls exchanged a few soft kisses here and there, as casually and instinctively as the way Lindsay then turned back to kiss Michael after each. When the movie ended, no one moved beyond what it took for Lindsay to nab the remote from the coffee table and swap back to normal TV, her hand clutching tightly to Michael's as soon as she laid back down.

They knew the routine, even if none of them admitted it was routine. The movie was over and no one had suggested another or a game by the time the Chopped winner was announced. That meant it was prime kissing time.

But no one moved.

With Griffon's words hanging over them still, no one wanted to be the one to start it. In public it had been easy. In public there was no way for anything to escalate, no way for anything to be anything but innocent and playful. But in private...

Inside, perhaps they'd all known it was inevitable. Some of them had played it off as jokes, some had ignored it all together, but the progression, while slow, was obvious, another item of clothing discarded each evening they spent together.

But having the spotlight shined straight on them had caused them to scatter, so to speak.

"We should go home," Meg whispered some episodes later, sitting up slowly. She gave a quiet laugh when Lindsay's fingers grazed her cheek, leaning back down to kiss her gently.

Michael's eyes were distant when she looked up at him, and they shut when she pressed a kiss to his lips as well.

She felt sure the extra kiss he pressed to the corner of her mouth as she stood back up was an apology.

Gavin paused over them, then walked off without a word, finally calling a "See you tomorrow" over his shoulder as he opened the door.

No one spoke as his key turned in the lock, clunking the bolt shut.

Lindsay collapsed back on top of Michael, burying her face in his neck and clinging to his shirt well past the point of white knuckles. He ran his hand down her back, hoping the feel of his fingers over her tense muscles would settle her down at least a little. Instead she shivered, almost shuddered, clinging even harder.

Her breath was hot against his neck, and hotter still against his lips.

She devoured his kisses, choking back noises Michael couldn't categorize (Sobs? Frustration? Flat out need?) and struggling to catch her breath. She touched every inch of him like she couldn't find the right inch to touch, like he was a puzzle box with a latch she'd forgotten the location of. His hands were shaking as he touched her back, worry mingling with the overload she was giving his senses and making it hard to focus.

Their clothes were in disarray when she first sank down onto him, giving her hand an overly wet lick and him a few curt strokes to add slickness to their meeting that proved unnecessary. She was all curses and nails from there, riding him while latched tight to his shoulders.

Lindsay couldn't make up her mind whether she wanted to cling to him closer or push back to be as rough as possible. She swapped between laying flush on him while giving him desperate but surprisingly gentle kisses, and sitting so far upright he feared she'd fall backwards if he didn't return the rough squeezes of her hands on his wrists.

He grabbed her hands and held them still the next time he felt her sitting up, pulling her back down to kiss her roughly and whisper against her lips, asking her if she needed it that hard tonight.

The noise that left Lindsay's throat was one of pure desperation. She barely managed to nod before letting her head drop to their joined hands above his shoulder. Michael freed his other hand from hers - which immediately dug into the sofa arm instead - and laced it into her hair, pushing it back and leaving her neck free for him to kiss and bite at. Her growls dulled to whimpers, then to moans as he dug his feet into the couch and set a slower pace.

He only wanted to calm her down far enough to help her regain her composure. He loved when she was that rough and insistent, but seeing her that distressed just worried him. Her answer to his question had told Michael that she didn't want to blow off steam right now, she just needed to feel him.

He coaxed her to sit up, pulled their clothes the rest of the way off as carefully but quickly as he could, keeping his hands on her as much as possible and giving a jerk of his hips now and then to assure her he was still with her. He pulled out only to turn her and climb onto his knees, Lindsay instinctively climbing back onto his lap so that when he pressed back in seconds later, she was pinned between him and the back of the sofa, her head lolling against the wall.

Michael held her there with arms hooked under her knees, folding her in half and pressing as much of his body against hers as he could. He found ways to get his lips on the rest, especially when Lindsay hunched forward and clung to his back, leaving his face in the crook of her neck. She hadn't been quite this sharp in a while - there were always scratches for emphasis and possessive bites with her, and he more than loved it - but digging her nails in to the verge of pain was far rarer. He answered her with a deep kiss near the edge of her collarbone, sucking until he felt her arms tighten around him and he felt sure the mark would last until he got home on Sunday, then biting down for good measure. He traced from there back to her lips with softer kisses, only for her to grab his head in her hands and kiss him desperately just before he could reach her mouth.

Lindsay pulled back soon after, holding his face still to stare him in the eyes as she panted breathlessly. It felt like she was searching for something, be it something in his eyes or the words from her own mind, but nothing came. Finally a smile inched its way across her face and she kissed him again, less rough but still insistent, before letting her hands drop back to his shoulders and her head rest back again.

With her smile as motivation, he hiked her legs higher on his arms, licked a line up her throat, and redoubled his efforts with his breath against her ear.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay's breathing faded from deep, desperate drags of oxygen to the quiet rise and fall of sleep with barely a word or other sound, her hand still clutched to Michael's wrist, which was, in turn, still resting on her thigh. They'd made it to bed after finishing on the couch, but not all the desperation had faded from her kisses and not all the tension had left her shoulders, so she'd tentatively guided his hand downward. He'd helped her gladly, sliding his other arm under her as a pillow and whispering her name and how much he loved her and so many other things into her hair while she cursed and groaned against his chest. He knew from her gasps when to pause even before she'd jerk his hand away, caressing her thigh and stomach until she coaxed his fingers back, the pattern continuing until she started to grow sore, and even then she'd clung to him and tried to push farther.

She got like that, to some extent, any time they were going to be apart for more than a day or two. Sometimes it was just possessive roughness and laughter, other times it was the same prolonged desperation, pushing herself well past the limit to drown how much she was going to miss him.

Tonight it still seemed excessive, since he'd only be away for three days, even if he'd barely been back a week to begin with. Michael didn't mind in the slightest, but it still left him just a little worried about her.

Especially because he was fairly sure he knew why she was that on edge.

He looked over her face in the near-darkness of the room, unable to help but place kisses on her cooling skin, and smiling to himself when he felt her cheeks raise into a smile when he kissed her there.

He wondered what would change - if anything even _would_ change - if he told her yes and granted her permission. He wondered if he should ask Griffon for advice, or whether he should sit them all down to talk about it, or if she'd even told Meg yet.

He wondered, from the turmoil she'd tried not to describe going through the week before, what it would do to her to be alone with Meg for the next two nights if he didn't say yes.

He kissed her eyelids gently and rolled to envelope her in his arms, gritting his teeth and willing himself to fall asleep before he had a chance to wonder if he was actually fine with it or if he simply, as always, wanted to give her anything she asked for.

 

* * *

 

Gavin slammed the trunk shut, reaching down to pick up his bag just in time for Meg to wrap her arms around him from behind. He laughed, turning to give her hair a ruffle and lean down for a quick kiss.

"Have fun," she said, swaying side to side with him, a grin plastered across her face.

"Try not to miss me too much," he answered, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her tighter.

"Gross, they're being mushy," Michael whined, his voice intentionally nasally and nose scrunched. It earned him a soft smack to the back of the head from Lindsay, who then made sure to kiss his cheek as noisily as possible. "I've been slobbered on! Save me!" he called dramatically, flopping backwards against the van door.

"Come get your backpack you mong," Gavin scolded, gesturing toward his bag.

"Why don't you carry it?"

"Because it's not my bloody backpack now is it?"

"Tch, fine. See if I do you any favors this weekend."

"Like you'd planned to anyway."

"Maybe I did? You'll never know now."

Lindsay sighed as the boys kept squabbling, going over to pick up Michael's bag and managing to steer his arms through the straps without him breaking stride. Finally she grabbed his head and turned it toward hers, making a fish face at him until he stopped talking.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"You need something?"

"Yeah, for you to shut up so we can get going."

"That eager to get rid of me?"

"Hell yeah."

Michael smirked. "That's not what you were saying last night."

Gavin gagged behind them.

Lindsay kissed Michael before he had a chance to start in again.

"Call me if you need anything?" she told him, sliding her hands down to grab both of his. The hotel was less than two hour out of town, the filming location only another 15 past that, so it would be easy for her to deliver anything they'd forgotten.

"I will," he promised, squeezing her hands.

"Good," she said, giving him another quick kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too," he answered, letting go of her and watching her trail back around to the driver's door.

Gavin and Meg were exchanging similar goodbyes, albeit with less vitriol and more Gavin opening the door for Meg to climb into the front seat. She rolled down her window for one last kiss, then leaned to fasten her seatbelt.

"I get back from LA Wednesday," she reminded him. He'd be back in the office Monday morning unless weather delayed some of the shooting, with her leaving for home late on Saturday, which meant it'd be nearly a week before they saw each other again.

They'd handled much, much longer.

"Alright. Text me when you get there so I know you're all safe?"

"Of course."

"We're still doing your birthday next week, then? The one here, I mean."

She giggled. "I still say I'm too old for birthdays, but yes."

"I haven't gotten to have your birthday with you yet, we have to do your birthday."

"Don't worry, we'll have a little party still, I promise."

"Good."

Gavin stood there grinning for a minute, Meg smiling back until she couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, you go check in already."

He nodded and turned to walk off, waving one more goodbye from halfway to the door.

"Michael, you coming?" he called, ducking his head to see him through the car windows. He'd wound up at Lindsay's door, and rolled his eyes at the question.

"I'll be right there, hold your horses!" he shouted, standing on his toes to holler over the top of the car. He ducked back down without waiting for a response, learning as far into the car as he could to grab one more long kiss from his wife as a goodbye.

"You two ladies have fun," he said, offering them both a nod. "I expect lots of great stories when you come pick me up, you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Good. Now get out of here."

Lindsay stuck out her tongue, and he pointed his right back, giving another glance at Meg as he did. He felt his heart skip a beat when she smirked and wrinkled her nose at him.

He'd planned to text her to tell her, but that just seemed like wimping out now that he thought about it.

"Oh, and Meg?" he said, biting his tongue while he waited for her to acknowledge him.

"Hmm?"

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He winked, pointing at her pistol style as he walked away.

As he fell into stride beside Gavin, he realized she had virtually no chance of realizing what he meant.

"Fuck."

 

* * *

 

 

He spent far too much of the afternoon, while Gavin and Colton caught up, typing and retyping texts to make sure his message had been understood.

In the end, he sent none of them.

  
  


 


	15. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of talking. Lots of pillows. Lots of doing things that involve pillows but not a lot of talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god there is no reason this chapter should be this long. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry. There's a lot of talking.  
> A _lot_ of it.  
>  You've been warned.
> 
>  
> 
> Please also note that at the moment this has only had a rough proofread, since I finished it while no one else was still awake. If you see any errors, feel free to point them out, but hopefully I or my beta will catch them in the next day or two. I just didn't want to wait any longer to post!

Michael knew what was coming already. He'd known since he first heard footsteps in the hallway, ones that dwelled outside his door and paced in circles, only to leave and return again and again.

He answered the knock at his door anyway.

He snatched the pillow out of midair almost as soon as it left Gavin's hands.

Gavin shouted in surprise and tripped on his own feet. He'd meant to throw the arm load of pillows at Michael and run away before he could react, but hadn't been prepared for him to answer the door quite so quickly and so his "throw" had been more of a "shove".

He stumbled, catching himself on one arm and falling into a tumble that left him sprawled in the middle of the hallway.

Michael shook his head. He glanced over at Gavin's phone propped against the opposite wall, obviously filming the antics, and leaned down to gather up the rest of the pillows before walking over to his breathless friend.

"Hi, Gavin," he said.

"'Ello, boi," Gavin answered. "Come to finish me off?"

"Nah."

He'd started the pillowfight a few hours earlier, invading Gavin's room after they'd gotten settled to wail on him with a pillow for the sake of a Vine. It'd still been light outside at that point, though. Somehow it'd taken Gavin two hours to decide upon his revenge, and another ten minutes of shuffling about in the hallway to set it up - mostly, Michael could only presume - spent finding the perfect camera angle. That meant that by now it was far too late for either of them to be shouting or running in the hallways of the hotel.

"Just returning these, that's all," he explained, and dropped all four pillows straight onto Gavin's face.

Gavin yelped, unsurprised but still flustered, barely managing to cover his head in time to deflect the attack.

He was laughing as Michael helped him to his feet, and beamed proudly when he mussed his hair.

"You are literally incapable of being quiet, you realize that, right?" Michael asked him.

"Probably," he conceded. "You heard me setting up, then?"

"People on the 10th floor heard you, dude."

"Oh." Gavin leaned down to pick back up the pillows, then paused, narrowing his eyes at Michael. "Wait a minute. This hotel doesn't have ten floors."

"That just makes it worse!"

A pillow caught him full force across the shoulder. He didn't stop grinning.

"You haven't won yet," Gavin warned him, raising the pillow to swing again.

"Haven't I?" Michael caught the pillow with ease when Gavin swung it again, not that he'd tried very hard to avoid his waiting hand.

"'Course you haven't. We're still here four more days."

Michael chuckled. "You telling me to watch my back?"

Gavin grinned. "What if I am?"

Michael snatched the pillow out of his hand, holding it up threateningly for a second just to watch Gavin flinch. He didn't miss the way Gavin's smile grew as he turned his head, same as it always did when they play-fought.

He didn't miss the beat his own heart skipped when his eyes dwelled there too long, either.

"Then I'd say you better have something besides pillows up your sleeve, boi," he answered, letting go.

"Oh, I'll think of something," Gavin assured him.

Michael just laughed and headed back into his room, though he left the door open behind him.

 

* * *

 

"Done and done," Lindsay said, closing her laptop screen. "Pizza's on its way."

Meg sat back down on the arm of the sofa. "Awesome. And you sent it to the right address this time?"

"...Oops?" Lindsay answered.

"Oh my god, not again."

"I'm joking, I'm joking," Lindsay promised her. "I double check now. And hey, we still got there before the pizza did."

"Only because we noticed when you posted the pizza tracker to Facebook."

"And Michael said the pizza tracker was useless."

Meg rolled her eyes. "I still can't believe you talked me into eating pizza when I have a photo shoot this weekend."

"Listen. If your million followers can't handle you after you've had some Dominoes, they don't deserve you at your best."

"Lindsay."

"I mean, I'll eat your crusts if you want."

"Oh my god, Linds. I'm not talking about carbs here, I'm saying I break out if I eat too much greasy stuff."

Lindsay shrugged. "So use a napkin to dab the excess grease off. It'll be just like high school all over again."

Meg cringed, sticking her tongue out. "Ewwww. Gross."

"What? You never got school lunches?"

"No I did just - ewwww."

"I'm just telling it like it is."

Meg made a gagging noise, extending one leg to shove Lindsay sideways with it. "Now I know how Gavin feels about the bread thing."

"Really?"

"Yessss," she whined, pushing herself off the arm so she could push Lindsay further. "I'm gonna be sick now."

"Cool, more pizza for me."

"Rude."

"Hey, I paid for it."

"You did, but  **_I_ ** paid for the dye you're using right now," Meg countered, pointing to Lindsay's  head. Her hair was twisted and pinned up, a plastic grocery bag tied loosely over it to keep the dye from dripping easily.

"You said you're not going to use it any time soon."

"And I'm not, but I think we're even."

"Fair enough," Lindsay shrugged.

Meg finally stopped rocking her with her foot, letting her legs flop across the laptop on her lap instead.

Lindsay's face contorted as though she'd just smelled something awful. "Argh," she whined, "why'd you have to remind me it was there? Now my head all kinds of itches." She winced one eye shut, reaching up to tap a spot on her head through the plastic.

"Oh my god, you big baby. It's only for a few more minutes."

"I knowwww but I wasn't thinking about it so it didn't itch till now."

"You're ridiculous."

"You'd do the same thing."

Meg sighed, pulling out her cell phone to check the clock. "You've only got three more minutes. Just go, get in the shower, that way you'll be out before the pizza gets here."

"Yay!" Lindsay cheered, pulling the laptop out from under Meg's legs and pushing it onto her lap instead. "I get to be free! Free of the itchies!" She hopped up, leaned down, and clapped her hands onto Meg's face, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. "Thank you!" she grinned. 

"Just make sure you only use the black towels on your hair!" Meg called after her as she bounded across the room and up the stairs, hauling herself by the banister to move faster.

"Okay!" she shouted back. "Freeeeeedommmmm!"

Meg rolled her eyes, smiling to herself and wiping the slobber off her cheek. She laid out on the couch and slid the laptop to rest on her stomach.

With Lindsay in the house to interject her own brand of silliness, she couldn't really miss Gavin. She still did to an extent, but everything still felt lively, the way she was used to it being. They'd only been alone for a few hours, and still had work the next morning, but already it felt like they'd had a whole weekend's worth of adventures.

She rolled onto her side, carefully setting the laptop on the ground, then cancelled the timer for Lindsay's hair on her phone and set a new alarm for twenty minutes. By then the pizza would likely be on its way, and Lindsay would be nearly out of hot water, so either way she'd want to be awake.

For now, she felt like just the right kind of content to nap.

 

* * *

 

"So what do you think we should do? You know, for Meg's birthday."

Michael made a dismissive noise. "How the fuck should I know? She's  _ your _ girlfriend, dude. You know I'm just gonna default to swimmy bevs, and it's nowhere near warm enough for that yet."

"I know," Gavin sighed, rolling onto his back and dropping his arms above his head with a deflating noise. "I just haven't got any ideas either."

"Maybe ask Lindsay?"

He let out another long exhale. "Maybe."

"You okay, Gav? I know you said you were tired, but you seem really dead right now."

He looked over at Michael, lifting his head off the bed. "I'm 'right, just really wish I could think of something."

Gavin watched as Michael studied his face for a moment, opting to make faces at Michael to throw off his read. Michael finally gave up and flopped over onto his back, mirroring Gavin's pose and sighing at the ceiling.

Gavin really was just tired - it was late, and the pillow fights had taken a lot out of him - and he really was just sick of having no ideas, but he also really was unsure of how to handle being alone with Michael at this stage. Habit told him to reach out and start poking at him until he made a nuisance of himself and maybe started a wrestling match. But any time he started trying to play that interaction out in his mind, it ended with one of them on top of the other. That wasn't something that had ever bothered him - honestly, he didn't usually even think scenarios through beyond evaluating whether the thing he wanted to do would be funny annoying or annoying annoying. 

Public he was fine with. Public, there were limits - logical ones, time ones, all sorts - and he knew any time he elevated their tomfoolery to something physical, it would end soon enough, stopped by someone walking in or them rounding a corner. When they were with their girls, things tended to limit themselves, with whoever were the guests in the others' home vanishing when things started to boil.

He'd gone four, maybe five months now, kissing Michael every now and then, with all sorts of other antics mixed in. He'd reasoned out why it was fun once or twice - their friendship thrived on messing with each other, and it got them all laid with a bit more fervor than normal - and hadn't worried about it the rest of the time, because worrying about things wasn't something he did.

He wasn't attracted to Michael. He didn't enjoy touching him or kissing him for the sake of doing so, only for the reactions they brought from him and from the girls. It wasn't objectionable, no, but if it didn't get a rise out of any of them he wouldn't bother with it, either.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself lately.

He hadn't needed to tell himself anything before. But then Griffon…

Griffon had been right. There was no way it didn't look like they were all fucking, to an outside observer. They were decades too old to be sharing beds half-naked out of any form of innocence.

He'd tried his best to push back the accusation, to continue his week as normal. To mess with Michael every chance he got, to play games with him, to enjoy their time together and, more importantly, with Meg. And everything had seemed normal, at least by their new standards - even the one kiss he'd goaded out of Michael. Everything was familiar, just how he liked it.

The way the girls had kissed the night before though; that had been something else entirely. He remembered pausing over Michael and looking to see if he had any reaction, and finding only his heart in his throat as he felt drawn to kiss them both goodbye as Meg had done.

He'd barely remembered how to speak by the time he reached the door.

Now that they were alone, he was trying to think about literally anything else except touching Michael, because that would just be weird.

Except thinking about not thinking about touching him was still thinking about it, and was still distracting him from thinking about what to do for Meg for her birthday, and that was something he probably needed distracted from in of itself because he didn't have any ideas and Meg was one of the few things that he got genuinely frustrated when it came to not having ideas about.

He looked back over at Michael again when he felt his thoughts circle around for the fourth time.

"What would you do?"

"What would I do what?"

"I mean if it were you and it was Lindsay's birthday, what would you do?"

"I dunno man. Probably dinner and a movie, classic shit. Some kind of really stupid looking cake, or go some place where they'll sing really loud at her in front of the whole restaurant and bring out a dessert with a really bright candle."

"That's a lie."

"What? Fuck you."

"You'd buy her a bunch of stuff she said she wanted but had forgot she'd brought up. Something really over the top."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, that too, probably. But the classic shit would still be the main point, I do the rest of that all the time." He knew he tended to impulsively buy things any time Lindsay expressed interest in them, hoarding some of them to give to her at major events and giving the rest the moment they arrived just to see her smile. Lindsay was thoughtful about things but procrastinated horribly, so often he got cards on holidays that said his present was on the way. From what he'd seen of Meg's shopping the previous christmas, she was an organized version of his technique, saving up lists to find deals on later instead of buying them right away.

Then there was Gavin, who had been lead by the hand to every gift he'd ever purchased for anyone in his whole life.

Gavin nodded. "The classic shit" did sound like a good idea, but he wanted to do something more than just that. It was only her second birthday since they'd started dating, and the previous one she hadn't even lived in the same state yet, so he was determined to do something special. Dinner out was nice, but it wasn't special.

"What would you want?"

"What do you mean what would I want?"

"If it were your birthday, what would you want to do?"

"I already told you, swimmy bevs. But it's too fuckin' cold for that shit."

"No, no. If you were  _ Meg _ , what would you want."

Michael propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at Gavin with pure befuddlement on his face. "Dude, Meg and I could literally not be more different. How the hell should I know what she'd want?"

Gavin barely turned his face toward Michael, just raising an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"Name one way we're similar."

"You both get really revved up when you start losing at a game."

Michael made a dismissive noise, sitting the rest of the way up. "Lots of people do that."

"Not the way you two do," Gavin insisted.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Fine, but still too general. Name one thing that makes you think I'd know what she likes."

Gavin's eyes darted across Michael's face, pausing there too long for his own comfort. He searched for something else to look at while he was thinking and locked onto Michael's hand instead, resting on his knee.

"I don't know," he muttered sheepishly. "It's just a feeling I get. You've said it yourself before. That you two are a lot alike, and that I'm a lot like Lindsay."

"Well,  _ yeah _ , but not like,  _ that _ alike, y'know?"

"I guess."

Gavin realized he was staring at Michael's ring and pulled his eyes away from him entirely, taking a deep breath before draping his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," he heard Michael complain.

"Be like what?" he answered, not moving his arm.

"You're getting all mopey. You're Gavin, Gavin doesn't get mopey."

"Who said anything about being mopey?"

"You look pretty damn mopey."

"Maybe I'm just annoyed that you keep saying the word 'mopey'?"

Michael shrugged. "That's fair."

"I'm not moping, though," Gavin said a moment later. "I'm just thinking, and I think better with my eyes shut."

"That explains a lot."

He moved his arm far enough to glare up at Michael, taking a swat at him with his other arm. "Oh, sod off."

Michael grinned and fell back down on the bed, laughing as it bounced under them.

Gavin smiled at the sound.

A minute or two of silence later, Michael finally spoke again. "Just don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"...I can text Lindsay and have her ask her, if you want."

Gavin chuckled. "That would be swell."

 

* * *

 

"Seriously, it'll be fun."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"First of all, gross. Second of all, I'll wind up all splotchy and it'll look really weird. And third, it's bad enough we have the same exact hair color, we don't need the same skin tone."

Meg was huddled against Lindsay's side, one arm wrapped around her arm and her head leaning on the younger girl's shoulder, where she'd been for most of the last hour's worth of cooking shows. Then she'd struck up conversation about her photoshoot the next week and the fact she wanted to get a spray tan before she left.

It had quickly turned into her trying to coerce Lindsay to go with her.

"We could pick different shades," Meg suggested.

"Have you ever seen me with a tan?"

"No?"

"Exactly."

"Oh come on. If you don't like it, it'll take not even two weeks to fade away."

Lindsay scoffed. "Why bother then?"

"Because it'll be fun! And I hate going alone."

"No I mean, why spend $75 on something that's only going to last like a week anyway."

"It's barely over $20."

"That's better, but still."

Meg laughed in disbelief. "Oh come on, you spend that much on dying your hair most months."

"Yeah, but that's different."

"How is that different?"

Lindsay took her arm back to gesture to her still damp hair. "People actually notice what color my hair is and when the roots are showing. No one's going to notice me being regular white instead of porcelain. Plus, my makeup won't match then!"

"You hardly ever wear makeup anyway."

"You don't know that."

"I have only seen you put on makeup like three times. Ever."

"Some of us like to keep it simple. I wear makeup a lot though."

Meg rolled her eyes, crossing her arms before leaning into Lindsay's side. "I know you do," she said, sighing in resignation.

Lindsay sighed right back mockingly, smiling to herself as she wrapped her arm around Meg's shoulders and gave her arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'm sure you can find someone else to go with you."

"Maybe."

"Bring Barb?"

"...Yeah, she'd probably go."

"See? That's not so hard."

"Yeah, yeah," Meg said dismissively, leaning her head against Lindsay's shoulder.

Lindsay sighed again, this time relaxing, and let her head rest on Meg's, turning her attention back toward the TV.

"...I could dye my hair again," Meg said a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"That way we wouldn't match like that."

Lindsay raised her head up. "Match like what?"

"Then we'd only both be the same shade of tan, not also the same shade of red. Seeing as you  _ literally _ just used my shade."

"Oh my god."

Meg just grinned.

"No."

"I've been thinking purple."

"That's definitely a thing you should do, but no."

"Why not?"

Lindsay turned further sideways, looking Meg in the eye to stare her down. "Meg."

"Lindsay?"

Lindsay clapped her hands onto Meg's shoulders to emphasize how serious she was. "I am not going to be Malibu Barbie."

"You're no fun."

"Aren't I?"

Meg grinned wider. "Welllll…"

Lindsay cut her off by kissing her.

Meg gasped against her lips, tensing so far that Lindsay pulled back, blinking and looking her over in concern. "Should I not- is this okay?" she stammered, not entirely sure what she was asking.

She watched as Meg's cheeks tinted and her eyes drifted away, one hand raising to rest on Lindsay's outstretched arm. "I don't know," she said, quiet but smirking, "I guess that depends on what 'this' is?"

Lindsay's heart skipped a beat at the question, goosebumps prickling down her arms and making her hands suddenly seem too hot on Meg's shoulders. She'd only meant kissing her - specifically kissing her out of the blue, in a way that felt a little too much like that day in the build room after Starbucks, when they'd had only the briefest of kisses since Griffon had confronted them. But something about the little smirk pulling at the corner of Meg's lips and the way she was looking up at her, head tilted and eyebrows raised…

" _ And Meg, don't do anything I wouldn't do _ ."

There weren't a whole lot of things Michael wouldn't do.

"Kissing you, you dope," Lindsay said, trying to mirror her smirk.

Meg broke into a grin. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, maybe because we're here all alone, without any boys to ogle us?" she teased.

"I was being rhetorical," Meg said, pressing a silencing finger to Lindsay's lip.

"So was I."

Meg giggled. Lindsay crossed her eyes to look at Meg's finger, then snapped her teeth as if to bite it.

Meg shoved her playfully, laughing as Lindsay toppled over on the couch and dragged her down atop her.

They only finally stopped laughing once they were too preoccupied by each other's lips to focus on anything else.

 

* * *

 

"What do you think they're up to right now, anyway?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"You usually know a hell of a lot more than you have today. Aren't I supposed to be the clueless one?"

Michael sighed, rolling his eyes, and groped around the bedstand for the remote. He'd texted Lindsay at Gavin's request, then they'd thrown on the TV, mocking the commentators on whatever niche travel show they'd flipped to first and chatting idly during commercials.

"They're probably watching the same garbage we are, if they're even still awake," he said, turning the TV up a few notches like he was sick of talking.

Gavin glanced over at him and shrugged. "Guess it is sort of late. Thought it was odd no one'd responded yet."

"Hey, not all of us are attached to our phone 24/7, alright? Some of us have better things to do at 3AM than watch cat videos."

"That was  _ one time _ ."

"Everything's one time with you."

Gavin blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's what supposed to mean?"

"What's 'one time' with me?"

"I mean that's always your excuse. That it was okay because you only did it that once."

"Examples?"

Michael looked over at him, eyebrow raised.

"You can't say that if you can't even give an example."

"I don't need to give any examples. If I wait five minutes you'll give like three of them."

Gavin sighed, grabbing the nearest pillow and dragging it over his face. He wanted Michael to answer honestly, so he could decide if he was on track or not, but he didn't want to bring it up himself because he didn't want to sound like a pervert. For months he'd been unsure if Meg's dirty talk about the others was all talk or genuine fantasy, but he'd never bothered to dwell on it since not knowing made it easier for him to answer in kind. But ever since their awkward breakfast with Griffon, the jokes had stopped. On one hand, it could have simply been too strange in the wake of that. But then on the way home from Michael's Wednesday…

"You sure you're okay with Lindsay staying at our place for the weekend?" Meg had asked, glancing at him, then past him to find her way into the next lane.

"Of course I am," he'd answered without hesitation. "Why wouldn't I? She might as well have stayed over last time Michael was gone, too."

Meg laughed quietly, reaching over and patting his hand where it rested on his knee. "No, I know. But you were there too. I just wasn't sure how you'd feel about us being alone for the weekend."

He hesitated at that, letting his mind replay the way Meg had leaned over to kiss both Lindsay and Michael on their way out of the apartment just minutes before. "...How should I feel about it?"

She laughed again, far more nervously. "However you want to feel about it?" she offered.

"I'm asking if we're on the same page," he explained, taking a deep breath. "Are you asking me to give you permission or to stop you?"

"I-"

Meg started laughing all over again, shaking her head, intentionally focusing more on the other side of the road once Gavin turned his hand to squeeze hers tightly.

"Love?" Gavin asked once she'd calmed down again.

"I'm not sure why I'd need you to stop me," she answered quickly.

"I'm not sure why you'd need my permission," he answered just as quickly, though his throat went dry and he had to squeeze her hand tighter.

She made a dismissive noise. "Oh let's see, maybe because that's what you do in a healthy relationship? You discuss things rather than leaping right into them?"

"...Why do I feel like I should be offended? Did I do something I shouldn't have?"

Meg was quick to recoil. "No, no, not in the least. I meant that I wanted to talk about this rather than just jump into it."

"Talk about... So you do want to, then."

"Want to what?"

"Oh, don't play coy. All your pillow talk about the things you'd do to Lindsay if she was there, it was true then?"

Meg fell silent, staring vacantly at the car in front of them. "Not... not all of it."

"Turney. I'm not upset, you know. Just so we're clear."

Gavin gave her hand a tight squeeze. Meg smiled meekly, but her eyes stayed fixed ahead.

"I didn't think you were."

They stayed silent more than long enough to reach their exit, Meg's hand drifting away from his to help her steer and staying locked to the steering wheel from then on.

Gavin cleared his throat at a red light, finally breaking the silence. "You know, I'd never thought about it with any seriousness before."

"You hadn't?" Meg asked, voice squeaking unintentionally.

"Not in the slightest. After all, before you, I never really had a relationship serious enough to ask myself, 'what would I do if she suddenly wanted to shag someone else'."

She managed to laugh at that. "And since me?"

"Since you I've thought... 'I understand why there are so damn many songs about going off to war for the woman you love'."

Meg burst out laughing. Gavin smiled at the sound, relieved to hear a genuine reaction.

"I'm not sure what that has to do with this," she said, still not looking over at him for more than a split second.

"Well. There's not a whole lot of people I trust as much as I do you," Gavin explained, trying his best to articulate his thought process. He watched Meg nod in acknowledgement, then took a deep breath before continuing.  "I always figured, if someone wants something outside of their relationship, then it's probably over, isn't it? Unless it's like, 'oh I'd do Angelina Jolie if I had the chance', that kind of thing, where it's impossible."

Meg's hands tightened on the steering wheel. He did his best to act like he didn't notice.

"But honestly this isn't like that at all. I still love you, that's not changed, and I don't feel like you love me any less."

"I don't," she assured him quickly. "You're still my Gavino."

"Exactly," he said, nodding.

They fell into silence again after that, until he reached over to rest a hand on her leg and she spoke just before he could make contact.

"So what does that mean, then?"

Gavin scoffed. "Well, that you should bloody go for it, that's what. Hell, if you're both alright with it, don't let me stop you."

Meg blinked, looking over at him finally as she pulled into their driveway. "Really?"

"We both know I'm a shit liar. Yes. Really."

"And you're not just saying that because you want to watch?"

"No. I mean, yes, I want to watch, at least I think I do, but no, it's not a requirement by any means."

Meg smiled at that, but it was a smile that scared him just a bit - one that pulled at her eyes in a way he didn't recognize, but thought maybe perhaps he'd seen the day she first moved in with him.

He'd wanted to say something to her to placate her nerves, but everything he could think of just sounded like it would make things worse.  _ "Besides, if I said no, you'd just find a way to convince me", "I figure Michael is enough of an obstacle without me making things worse", "but no seriously let me watch", "how long have you been planning this", "it's obvious she wants to and why shouldn't she?" _ , all of it just seemed out of place.

So he'd done the only thing he could think to do. He'd kissed her. It was as much to buy himself time as it was to comfort her, but it worked at the time, and it worked for enough time that he eventually wound up too preoccupied to remember to say anything more on the subject.

Except now here he was, rapidly running out of fresh air under a pillow prison of his own making, well aware he'd been lost in thought for far too long for answering Michael to even be an option anymore.

He pulled the pillow down from his face, sighing deeply before wincing and turning to Michael.

"What was the question again?"

"HOLY SHIT."

Michael was off the bed in a flash, waving his arms and stomping one foot, raving about in frustration. "That! That right there! That is exactly what I'm talking about!"

"Exactly what?"

"I didn't even ask you a fucking question. You fucking  _ idiot _ ."

Gavin squinted over at him, trying to remember that far without just getting lost in the conversation with Meg again.

" _ You _ asked  _ me _ a question. Holy fucking shit."

"Alright then, calm down. Come off it. You know I'm just messing with you."

Michael snorted. "Yeah, right."

"No, really," he insisted, sitting up. He willed his mind to rewind the conversation faster, and hoped grinning his ass off would buy him at least a bit of time. He couldn't just kiss Michael into forgetting what they were talking about like he could with Meg.

...Could he?

No, of course he couldn't. Especially not at this distance, but even if Michael was still on the bed-

He gritted his teeth. No. No he couldn't distract him like that, period. It would probably just make him angrier if he even tried. Right now he was just Michael angry, which wasn't actually angry, it was more for show than anything. He was over exaggerating how upset he was, because that was how they played it - and the little flashes of smile that kept sneaking through his scowl when he spoke told Gavin he wasn't even playing it well. But breaking formula was a sure fire way to get him genuinely angry, and kissing him out of nowhere, especially when he'd have time to see it coming, was definitely breaking formula. It was definitely best to let Michael be the one doing the kissing, not to surprise him with it.

-Wait, why was that his reason for not distracting him like that? Since when was his first thought,  _ nah it'll just piss him off further _ , not,  _ this is Michael we're talking about, I shouldn't be kissing him regardless _ .

Gavin forced his grin out wider, hoping he was managing to keep his monologuing internal.

"Don't you 'really' me," Michael snapped. "I know that stupid look on your face. 'Look at me, I'm adorable, you can't be mad at me!'. Yeah right. That shit might work on Meg and Geoff, but it doesn't work on me."

"Aww, but Micoo-"

He yelped when a pillow met his face for perhaps the thirtieth time of the night. He tried to flash Michael a pout as he collected it and added it to the hug he was already holding the previous pillow in, but succeeded only in giggling.

"Oh, shut up," Michael chided, shaking his head and sitting back down.

He was smiling now, too.

_ Distraction attempt successful! _

Except then, just as quick, the smile was gone, and Michael was flopped out on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Just as Gavin was starting to wonder if he should ask him what was wrong or if that was just going to fall into another argument, Michael sighed. "It's  _ really _ late."

"Yeah," Gavin agreed, slouching into the pillows a bit. "But tomorrow we'll be filming 'round this time."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm trying to stay awake a while yet."

"Should I find us something more interesting to watch then?"

Michael looked up at the screen, where the show's host was narrating the beer manufacturing process. "Nah. This time of night everything's infomercials. At least this I've only seen once before, any of those I could probably recite backwards."

Gavin chuckled at that. He rarely watched TV himself anymore - why would he need to, with Hulu and the like? - but he was sure Michael wasn't joking, or at least not entirely.

For a few minutes, he zoned out, watching the show with surprisingly earnest interest.

Halfway through the next commercial break, Michael cleared his throat.

"So uh. Has Meg- has she said anything about like..." He paused, face twisting into a look of concentration like he'd stopped mid-sentence to pick something from between his teeth with his tongue. "About uh. You know."

"I don't think I do."

"Ah for fuck's sakes... you know," he insisted, starting to motion vaguely in the air, "wanting to do anything this weekend."

"She's gonna be out of town, we already talked about that."

"No! I know that. I mean, before that."

"While we're here and she's there?"

"While we're here and  _ they're _ there," Michael corrected.

"Well, yes, they both are, but-"

"Alone," he added, with more emphasis.

"I don-"

Gavin paused mid word, blinking as his meaning dawned on him. He pressed his lips together as he gave it some thought, until he was thinking so hard and pressing them so hard that they were turning white from lack of circulation.

"Oh."

He took a deep breath, glancing over toward Michael out of the corner of his eye. Should he tell him about his conversation with Meg? Had Lindsay said something similar, or was Michael just taking a stab in the dark? He sounded too hesitant for it to be any kind of joke or fantasy.

When he heard Michael inhale like he was about to speak again, Gavin spoke quickly. "She might have mentioned something."

"Yeah?" Michael said, doing a poor job of sounding nonchalant.

"Yeah. Why? Did Lindsay say something?"

A whole commercial passed with no response.

Finally, Michael chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Was- is it that bad?"

"What? No! God no," Michael said. Their eyes met for a split second, then he turned his whole head to look as far away from Gavin as possible. "It's fine. I just never thought I'd, y'know, hear my wife say she wants to bang another chick."

Gavin tried to act taken aback.

He failed.

"Christ," he muttered before flopping backwards, stretching out to touch the headboard and let his feet dangle off the bed.

Both men sighed, just enough out of sync that it drove Michael to yawn and sigh a second time.

By the time Gavin glanced over a few minutes later, Michael had taken his phone out and was scrolling mindlessly.

He laughed quietly. "Hey Michael."

"Yeah?" he said, turning his phone off and turning his head toward Gavin.

"Do you think they're doing it? Like, right now?"

Michael's hands jerked fast enough he dropped his phone. "What?!"

"Well I mean, they're alone, right? And they said they wanted to."

"Well,  _ yeah _ . Duh. But I don't think-" he paused as he found his phone again and fumbled it onto the nightstand, "-they wouldn't do it without  _ us _ there."

Gavin found Michael's certainty odd. "Wouldn't they?"

"Well. I mean, I guess they  _ could _ ."

Gavin nodded slowly and looked back to the ceiling. "Would you be alright with that? If they just went ahead and shagged without us knowing?"

He heard Michael hold his breath before answering, for just long enough that he regretted asking the question. "...I guess? Like, I hope they'd tell us after instead of just keeping it secret."

"Oh, I'm sure they'd tell us all about it," Gavin said, trying to be reassuring.

"Exactly. …Wait, why are you sure?"

"Well, I just keep thinking about it. They're both with us, and yet they want each other, too."

Michael snorted. "I think that summarizes the last few months pretty well, yeah."

"And during that time, there's been plenty of chances. They've been alone quite a lot, and not once during all of that have they shagged, right?"

"True."

"Oh, so now you're the one who's sure?"

Another snort. "Yeah I'm sure. I think our conversation would have gone a lot differently if she already knew exactly what she wanted."

"Fair enough."

Michael picked his head up long enough to squint at the TV, then turned back to Gavin. "Why the sudden interest in their activities? Got an itch you need to go back to your room and scratch?"

Gavin scoffed in disgust at the suggestion, though he had to do a mental pants check to be sure he was completely off base.

"What is it then?"

He shrugged, twining his fingers and resting them on his chest. "Just… I guess I can't help but wonder what that's like, you know? To want to be with more than one person."

Michael went deathly still beside him. When he finally spoke - only after Gavin turned to look over at him - he sounded like he'd forgotten speaking took air.

"…You don't know?"

Gavin blinked. What kind of a question was that? "...No? At least, I don't think so. Why," he asked hesitantly, "do you?"

"I, well," Michael stammered, giving another vague wave just above his chest. "I mean, I just thought since you're okay with all of it, you must be able to put yourself in their shoes, or something. Right?"

"Well that's just absurd," Gavin chuckled. "I mean, can you?"

"It-"

He tried to catch Michael's eyes when he hesitated, but he closed them before he could.

"That's not important."

Gavin bit his tongue, feeling a shiver run down his spine. "Micoo…" he whispered, hoping the pet name would comfort Michael into telling him whatever secret he was suddenly hiding.

"I said that it's not important."

" _ Micoo _ ," he repeated, more insistently.

Annoyance resurfaced in Michael's voice. "Gavin, please. I don't want to get into another stupid  fight."

Gavin nodded stiffly. There was nothing playful in Michael's tone anymore. Nothing harsh, either, but it was still a genuine request and genuine warning, and he kept quiet until he'd thought awhile about what to respond.

If Michael was this hesitant about things, there was no way he wasn't serious. He'd obviously contemplated this before, and while Gavin had no real guesses as to who Michael was talking about, he could guess why he was so touchy. Michael's own excessive jealousy was his downfall. Whoever he'd found himself crushing on - there was no way he could be honest with Lindsay about it when he knew how he'd react if she were the one with the crush. Honestly, he was sure there were only two reason Meg had survived Lindsay's advances: one was that Michael had had months of build up to this point, and the other was that Meg was maybe half his size and Michael had a policy of not hitting girls unless they started it.

-The fact they'd kissed a couple times in there probably helped make Meg less of a threat, of course, but he was trying not to complicate things too much, and that was a few too many threads to twine at nearly twenty-two hours into his day.

He reached over and jostled Michael gently by the shoulder. "It's alright, you know?" he said, offering a slight smile.

Michael looked at him without turning his head. "What's alright?"

"Well if Lindsay wants to be with someone, I think it's only fair for you to be able to too, yeah?" Gavin suggested. "And same with me and Meg, if that were the case."

Michael looked back to the ceiling, then let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. I guess."

Gavin nodded slowly, watching Michael to see if he'd add anything more. He felt himself holding his breath behind a clenched jaw and let his own eyes drift to the ceiling, then shut.

He laid there until he felt himself becoming drowsy and started wondering if he shouldn't head back to his own room. He'd been in Michael's for nearly six hours, if the run back for his wallet and to the vending machine didn't count, and it was getting late even by the standards of their filming schedule.

But when Michael sighed, he wanted to do  _ something _ to comfort him. A hug, a squeeze of his hand, a kind word, just something,  _ anything _ to ease his mind. He knew if he went to bed now, he'd be kept awake by the idea of Michael beating his head against the wall over what he figured was next to nothing.

And so, despite his own words to Meg the night before, he said, "I still don't think they'll do it without us there. Not the first time, at least."

If he was wrong, they could all sort that out later, right?

He saw Michael smile weakly out of the corner of his eye as he answered, "Yeah, you're probably right."

Then he saw the smile fade again, just as fast, and he propped himself up on his elbows to look at Michael more deliberately.

"Will you be alright? Being there for that? If it happens, I mean."

He gave an off-kilter laugh. "Well, I already told her that I would be, so... Hopefully?"

"Aww, Michael," Gavin said, pouting. "You didn't have to tell her that if you weren't sure."

Michael met his gaze dead on for the first time since they'd started talking, his expression deadpan even once he spoke. "I am sure," he warned. "I'm sure that I'm completely okay with everything she's doing with Meg, because at the end of the day, she still looks at me the same way she always has. She hasn't stopped loving me, and I haven't stopped loving her, so whatever she does with Meg, or hell, with you, that's fine."

Gavin felt his heart stop and couldn't quite figure out how to move far enough to smack it back into beating, so he just stared at Michael as he continued.

"It's the watching it happen part I'm not sure about. I mean, it could be amazing. Watching them make out is amazing. I married the most beautiful woman in the whole world, y'know? But I won't know how I feel about it until it happens."

He was rambling now.

Gavin barely processed any of it.

Okay, none of it. He didn't hear a word Michael was saying, because his brain was still locked four sentences back.

"...with me?" he wheezed.

"-Huh?" Michael answered, snapping out of his verbal diarrhea.

He nodded, once. "You said, 'whatever she does with me'."

He narrowed his eyes at Gavin, one eyebrow slowly raising. "...Yeah? She's kissed you, too. I know I wasn't there for that, but it was pretty obvious it was going to happen sooner or later and I'm pretty sure you knew that, too."

"Honestly? It was a bit of a surprise for me."

Michael laughed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "Of course."

Gavin let himself lay back down, yawning and clicking his tongue pensively. "...Does it bother you? That she's kissed me."

"I'd hope not, given how many times Meg's kissed me."

"Well that doesn't really answer the question, now does it."

"No, Gavin. I'm not bothered that Lindsay finally connected the last dots of this hanky panky circuit."

Gavin decided to ignore the sarcastic bite lining Michael's words in favor of not getting into a fight. "Sorry. I won't talk about it anymore."

Michael sighed. "No, don't worry about it. I need to think about it. I told Lindsay I was okay with it, so I either need to actually be okay with it or tell her I'm not before it's too late, and I fucking hate going back on my word."

"I could tell Meg that-"

"No."

"But-"

"Gavin. I mean, for fuck's sakes. When was the last time our Friday nights didn't end with us listening to each other fuck in the next room?"

"Weekend before last."

"I wasn't even in town."

"Still counts."

He could practically hear Michael frowning, and he wasn't sure if he should regret egging him on or not.

"That's not… I just," Michael muttered, teeth grinding audibly.

"Listen. If it will help, just say the word, and I will promise not to ever touch Lindsay again, alright? It's not worth messing up our friendship over."

Michael sighed out his nose. "I don't... Ugh."

"Just like I know you wouldn't touch Meg if I asked you not to," Gavin said encouragingly.

"Okay, yeah, but here's the thing. We both know that you've got about as much say in what Meg does as you do what Geoff does, you hear what I'm saying?"

He blinked. "...I... think so?"

"Right. And it's the same with me and Lindsay. If she wants to do something, she's going to do it. Doesn't matter what I say or don't."

"Well, yeah. But I'd like to think we have, I don't know, veto power? Like if we earnestly said no, they would listen. Whether it's about us or them or whoever."

"No you're right, they would," Michael agreed.

Gavin nodded once, bracing himself to find out why Michael agreeing had felt so foreboding.

"But here's the thing. We both know damn fucking well that if they want something, chances are good we aren't going to stop them."

Another, stiffer nod.

"You know it and I know it."

Did bobbing his head by half an inch at best still count as a nod? He hoped so. He couldn't muster much more behind how dire Michael's tone had become.

"I mean, if I'm off base, tell me," Michael said with a bitter laugh.

Gavin swallowed. "No, you're not. You're right. You're absolutely right."

"So if they're on board for this… there's no turning back."

His brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle it out. He knew something wasn't adding up quite right. The deliberate ways that Michael was phrasing everything - and they  _ were _ deliberate, because Michael only hesitated when dumbfounded, bluffing, or overthinking - felt like he was daring Gavin to argue with him. "No, I suppose not. But- that's them, you know? That's the girls. If they're happy, who cares? It's not like-"

"It's not like what? Like there's going to be a day two, three months down the line where Meg decides she wants to fuck you  _ and _ my wife at the same time?"

-And there it was.

"I... guess I hadn't quite thought that far ahead."

"Of course you hadn't. You're Gavin. You never have to think about anything, it all just works out for you."

It was a phrase he'd heard countless times before; but every previous time, it had clearly been a joke. Now, instead, it hit Gavin like a kick in the diaphragm.

"Well," he muttered, chewing at his tongue as he tried to find words. However hurt he was, he knew Michael wasn't saying it out of malice, but he was too tired to not respond with spite. "I could say the same about Lindsay, couldn't I? What happens if she wants both of you at once? And while we're at it, if you're so sure we can't tell the girls no, what happens when Meg decides she likes kissing you so much that she wants more than that?"

"Meg's already got your dick, what the hell would she want with mine?"

Gavin sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his forehead. "I'd think you of all people would know it's not as simple as one dick over another."

Michael was silent long enough that he opened one eye to look over at him.

"How long have you been worried about that?" Michael finally asked, voice hollow.

"About what?"

"About me and Meg."

Gavin blinked in consideration. "For about three minutes if I'm honest."

He heard a single, near-silent chuckle from Michael.

"...You're imagining it now, aren't you?" he ventured teasingly.

"I- well, I'm not  _ trying _ to," Michael answered defensively. "Just, now that you've  _ said _ it, I wondered if it's actually something I'd say yes to."

"And?"

"How should I know? I've only had like three minutes to figure that out."

Gavin cast him a huge, victorious grin, which Michael met with bared teeth and a sarcastic  _ nyeh _ of his tongue.

"It's alright, boi," he assured him. "She's a model, I'm quite used to knowing others want to shag her."

A look of sheer terror flashed across Michael's face. "...God, I'd never thought about it like that."

He laughed. "Believe me, it took some getting used to."

"I'm sure. Jesus."

Michael flopped his hands above his head, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. Gavin watched him, studying his face as he stared steadily at the ceiling. Now and then Michael's chest shook with a silent laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Gavin only realized he'd started to doze off when he was startled awake by Michael rolling over beside him. At first he thought he was trying to get more comfortable to get to sleep, but it was chilly enough in the room that Gavin's toes felt cold even through his socks so he thought there was no way Michael would be trying to sleep without getting beneath the covers first - and for that, he'd surely shoo Gavin from the room.

Sure enough, Michael didn't settle onto his pillow. Instead, he rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and staring intently at the headboard.

Gavin snapped his eyes shut when he thought he saw Michael look his way, hoping he could feign sleep long enough for Michael to either conk out or ask him to leave. He concentrated on the dull drone of the infomercial that had just started on TV, letting himself imagine the actions to go with the forced narrative to try and keep himself awake.

When he hadn't moved some time later, Gavin chanced opening one eye again.

Michael was still propped on both elbows, his hands folded and face pressed to his thumbs pensively. He seemed to be gnawing at his knuckles, his only other movements slight, thoughtful shifts of his brow, which was furrowed in concentration.

Gavin opened both eyes and tilted his head to look at him more clearly. Michael didn't seem to notice, but did sigh deeply, fatigue weighing on his eyes.

He cleared his throat as quietly as possible, then spoke. "Aww, don't do that."

Michael jerked to attention, startled. "Do what?" he asked, lifting his head from his hands to meet Gavin's gaze.

"That thing with your face."

Michael raised one eyebrow, managing to mix confusion and annoyance in with the story his expression already told.

Gavin pouted in return. "It makes me worried about you!"

Michael chuckled, trying to hide a smirk. "Since when do you worry about anything?"

He pouted harder, though he could feel a smile pulling at his lips at Michael's expression. "I worry about you plenty."

Michael rolled his eyes, resting his cheek back onto his hands. "Worry about yourself. You're a fucking mess."

Gavin scoffed and crossed his arms, mock-hurt. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

Another eye roll and a scoff in return. "Tch. Whatever."

"Fine then."

Michael scrunched his nose up and stuck his tongue out at Gavin, an expression the Brit mirrored, both exaggerating the expression further and further until Michael "lost" by being the first to start laughing again, a fact he hid by covering his face with his hands for a moment.

It didn't take long for the smile to fade, and Gavin had to stop himself from reaching over to pat his shoulder reassuringly.

"What is on your mind then, boi?" he asked instead.

"I'm…"

Michael closed his eyes, sighing so heavily it shook the bed. His breathing slowed down after, like he was counting each one out in turn, and after the eighth his eyes opened again and locked on Gavin.

Gavin blinked but didn't look away. He felt his heart racing from the silence, but didn't know what to say to fill it - he'd already asked what was wrong so many times he was sure he was making a nuisance of himself. He thought of telling Michael not to worry about it, that he didn't need to know if he didn't want him to, but the idea of Michael having something he didn't want him to know hurt in its own way.

He opened his mouth to speak but found no sounds, only that his breathing had subconsciously fallen into sync with Michael's drawn out pattern. That realization alone made him shiver, but then Michael started to move at long last. He pushed himself up onto hands and knees, dragging himself forward in the same motion.

Gavin remembered how to make sounds-

"Where are you goi-"

-right as Michael reached over his head, planting a hand beside Gavin's ear, leaving him hovering over his face and chest diagonally.

Gavin stared up at him, wide-eyed, and was met by Michael's own gaze, persistent but neutral, impossible to read beyond how obviously tired he was.

He tried to breathe, but his mouth was suddenly too dry.

His eyes slipped shut when he felt Michael's nose bump against his just before their lips met.

Gavin didn't open them again until well after the kiss was over and Michael was poised all the way back on his hands.

"...Micool?" he asked softly.

Michael didn't answer. Instead he stared intently down at him, eyes noticeably darting between his eyes and his lips, mouth hanging open just  _ barely _ , just enough that it made Gavin pull in his lips to wet them again.

"Michael?" he asked again, more clearly.

Then Michael was gone from above him, sitting up properly beside him. Gavin pushed himself up onto his elbows and turned to face him, bewildered.

"What was that about just now, boi?"

Michael made a noise that wanted to be a laugh but missed picking up any sound on the way up from his lungs. "I'm not sure," he said, shrugging. "I think I'm just used to kissing you after you say stupid shit, by now."

Gavin's forehead wrinkled as he tried to think of what stupid thing he might have said. "Well if you kissed me every time I said something stupid, I'm not sure you'd have time for anything else," he joked, shrugging as well.

"You've got that right at least. Maybe I should start kissing you after you say smart things instead, put you on a reward system."

"Reward system?" Gavin laughed. "Weren't you the one who said before that kissing me was plenty punishment?"

He nodded sagely. "The cruelest and unusualist."

Gavin rolled his eyes as Michael followed the accusation with a round of retching noises. "You like it and you know it."

Michael swung his legs off the edge of the bed and put his hands up in the air. "Hey. Your words buddy, not mine."

Gavin sighed, letting himself drop full stop back onto the bed, bouncing slightly from the impact.

Michael swivelled at the edge of the bed, then paused, hands poised like he was about to push off and stand up. "Why do you suddenly care so much if I like kissing you or not, anyway?" 

He looked over at his friend's turned back, frowning as he formed an answer. "Well, because we do it so much, and it seems kind of dumb to keep doing it if you actually do hate it."

"Of course I don't  _ hate _ it," Michael said quickly. "I never  _ hated _ it."

Gavin nodded softly, even though he knew Michael couldn't see him.

"I just… never thought it'd be something I got  _ used _ to doing, either."

He pulled at his lip with his teeth again, closing his eyes and picturing Michael looming over him seconds before. "Yeah, I think we can both agree on that."

He felt the bed shake as Michael stood up, and opened his eyes only after hearing an exaggerated yawn he knew must have accompanied a huge stretch. Sure enough, Michael's arms were high in the air, and he took a moment to roll his neck and shoulders before he spoke again. "At any rate, we should really get some fucking sleep. Not to mention I've had to piss for fucking hours," he announced.

"Ewwww," Gavin countered, making a face as he sat up. "Then go-" he was cut off by a yawn that he forced himself to keep talking through, "-go already. It's not like I'm stopping you."

"Dude. If I go while you're still here, you'll fucking fall asleep on my bed."

"So?"

"So you're on top of the covers."

"And?"

"So how the hell am I supposed to get under them if you're weighing them down."

"Well that's not my problem, now is it?"

Michael finally turned to look at him again. "I'm going to make it your problem if you don't hurry your ass up."

"You know," Gavin said, stretching so that he intentionally sprawled out further on the bed, "you could always try just asking nicely."

He had to dislodge one from under the blankets to do it, but Michael still managed to hurtle a pillow at Gavin's face in record time.

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay jolted awake to the sound of the front door closing.

Michael was up to something. He had to be. He was always up before her, yes, but he was always loud and obnoxious and she was good at sleeping through his morning bullshit because there was something oddly comforting about slowly waking up to the smell of bacon and him imitating guitar solos loudly into the spatula. So if he was trying to be quiet, he was obviously up to something, and she wouldn't-

Wait. These were not her blankets. Their window was not on that side of the room. And more importantly, there was no dark curtains hanging over them, just barely slitted blinds through which the morning light was streaming.

Right. She was at Meg and Gavin's. She was sleeping in their bed, for that matter. And the noise was probably Meg innocently going about her morning routine, because Michael wasn't even there to prank her.

She flopped her head back down, sighing in relief.

From the empty half of the bed beside her, Smee gave a  _ mrowl _ and a yawn, probably objecting to being woken up by Lindsay's sudden movements. "Hey there, buddy," she whispered to him, reaching over to pet him as he stretched. He pressed his head into her palm, urging her to scritch behind his ear, then nuzzled up her arm before climbing over her and hopping off the bed.

"Fine, be that way," she chuckled, giving a yawn and stretch of her own as she rolled onto her back.

Despite how much larger it was than her own bedroom, the room felt warm and cozy bathed in early morning light. She and Michael had a nice mattress - it had been a wedding gift, along with the silk sheets they never used for fear of their washing machine ruining them - but this one had a thick layer of memory foam that made getting up sound like the worst idea in the world. She wanted to be jealous, but waking up was hard enough most days anyway. She was sure she'd always be late to work if they had the same sort of bed.

The door across from her drifted open, and she tried to open her eyes to see who was there, but was thwarted by another yawn.

Meg giggled from the doorway, prompting Lindsay to smile and lift one hand far enough to wiggle her fingers in greeting.

"What time is it?" she asked drowsily as Meg waved back.

"Still really early," Meg assured her.

"Yeah, I noticed that much," Lindsay chuckled.

"I just got back in from my run. I'll wake you up after I get out of the shower. Unless you need more time?"

Lindsay hummed in consideration, slowly stretching her joints in turn, starting from her toes. "How long would that give me?"

"You'd have at least an hour before we need to leave."

She smiled and rolled back onto her side, pulling the blankets tight around her shoulders. "Yus," she murmured, "that sounds good."

She could still hear Meg giggling fondly as she closed the bathroom door.

It felt like only seconds later that the door creaked open again, but it must have been longer because Lindsay actually felt awake now, and not even begrudgingly.

She smiled as Meg peeked back out from the bathroom door, hair wrapped neatly in a towel, and raised one hand to wave at her again. "Morning," she called softly.

"Morning," Meg greeted in return, turning off the bathroom light behind her and coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. She arranged her short bathrobe carefully as she did, sitting on the edge and pulling it over her thighs with well-rehearsed ease before resting her hands on her lap. "You sleep well?" she asked.

Lindsay nodded, smiling softly as her eyes trailed back up from Meg's folded hands to her face. "Yeah, definitely. Did you?"

Meg grinned, reaching over to rest a hand on Lindsay's arm. "Well, you're a little squirmier in your sleep than Gavin, but I still managed."

"Whaaaat?" Lindsay asked, mock-offended. "Me? Squirmier than Gavin?" She huffed in annoyance, rolling on to her back so she could gesture with both hands. "Rephrase that.  _ Anyone _ ? Squirmier than Gavin?"

She just laughed in response. "He's surprisingly stationary once he's asleep. C'mon, you've wound up in the same bed as him a couple times by now, there's no way you didn't notice. He's as dead limp as his cat once he's unconscious."

Lindsay nodded appreciatively. "I'll keep that in mind next time I need to drag him somewhere."

" _ Lindsay _ . Oh my god," Meg scolded, breaking down laughing.

She grinned victoriously.

Instinctively, she pushed up on one elbow, intending to sit up and give Meg a kiss on the cheek. Then she felt the blanket slip and quickly laid back down, pulling the covers back up and tucking them firmly under her arms.

She'd forgotten she was still shirtless from the night before.

There'd been a good while of making out on the couch that had faded into cuddling while they watched TV, only for things to rekindle once they made it up to bed. Lindsay could still recall the way Meg's fingers had ghosted over her sides, raising goosebumps in their wake and making even the thin fabric of her night shirt feel too heavy. Her hand was resting in almost the same spot now, and it made her keenly aware that the blankets were the only thing separating them in a way that both made her want to pull them off and drag Meg down onto her, and made her blush and want to burrow further under them to avoid admitting that flash of memory alone was enough to make her pulse quicken.

From the way Meg was smirking, she already knew.

Lindsay just blushed harder, turning her head to take a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" Meg asked, stroking her side with her thumb. "Did you want to pick up where we left off last night?"

Lindsay pressed her lips together tightly, glancing from the window, to Meg's hand, and up to her face. She was smirking, but Lindsay couldn't tell if it was out of humor or seduction.

"I- is there time?" Lindsay ventured, voice cracking.

Meg laughed.

Lindsay took the lips suddenly pressed to hers, pinning her head down to the bed, as a "yes".

She grabbed for Meg's cheeks, blindly at first, then carefully once she bumped into her hair towel, not letting her escape from the kiss until she was ready - and by ready, she meant once she knew she'd have the nerve to drag her back for another one. Meg didn't seem to mind, bringing her free hand up to rest beside Lindsay's head to keep her balance as one firm, chaste kiss blurred into the next.

When Lindsay finally let go, Meg only retreated far enough to take in Lindsay's whole expression. She smiled bashfully at first, not quite meeting Meg's eyes, then flashed her grin so huge it wrinkled her nose. Meg laughed joyously and mirrored the expression before leaning down to nuzzle the blankets covering Lindsay's chest. Then she looked up again, her lower lip caught between her teeth and her eyebrows raised questioningly.

Lindsay found the side of her robe and used it to pull her closer, sending Meg into another fit of giggles.

Some shifting later, Meg was laying atop Lindsay, straddling her just above the hips. She was sprawled quite comfortably, elbows framing Lindsay's head as their kisses grew more aggressive. Her hair towel was still miraculously in place, mostly by virtue of the death grip Lindsay had taken on the older girl's robe until she decided what she'd rather be doing with her hands.

For now she had more pressing matters to think about. Among those was Meg's tongue, which had found its way into her mouth without any real difficulty, and which she was slightly surprised to find didn't taste like coffee or mojitos in its natural state, though she wasn't quite lucid enough to think as much in as many words. She made no attempt to hold back the low moans the attention was already drawing from her; instead she just worked to earn the same in return. Lindsay's kisses were insistent almost to the point of being pushy, her lips pulling and sucking at Meg's lips and tongue whenever they could. No one motion lasted long enough to be more than tantalizing.

Meg tried to slow Lindsay down by nipping at her lips, scolding the younger girl wordlessly before trying to kiss her more deliberately. Each attempt would only last a few seconds before Lindsay's motions grew abrupt again, until Meg was left wondering if she liked the quick jolts of pain her teeth were causing

From her own limited experiences with Michael, it seemed possible - but that was a theory for a later time.

For now, Meg just wanted. There was a hunger in her that she'd ignored until that night she'd spent sandwiched between Lindsay and Gavin, and which had only grown since. And while both times they'd begun kissing the night before had eventually petered out, she'd never entirely recovered from the second, and had forced herself out of bed almost the instant she'd woken up to avoid the temptation to start touching Lindsay again right then and there.

They'd changed in separate rooms the night before, leaving Meg waiting on the bed in lingerie - nothing  _ too _ fancy, but something unmistakably designed for taking off, not sleeping in - while she waited for Lindsay to come to bed.

She still wasn't sure if Lindsay had the same intentions for their weekend together as she did. She had her guesses, for sure. Lindsay had wasted little time in burying her face in Meg's cleavage earlier, showering Meg with attention that included getting her bra off but never actually took her under her shirt for more than a squeeze at a time. Michael's last words to them had been oddly suggestive, and as her fingers had laced into Lindsay's hair earlier she'd wondered what exactly constituted something Michael would do, and how to ask if she had Lindsay's far more important permission now that she had her husband's.

She hoped a sheer tank top and ruffled panties would be enough of an opener that she wouldn't have to ask the questions (but practiced them just in case).

At first she'd been entirely right. While Lindsay had cracked open the door wearing something far less fancy - a pair of what were probably Michael's boxers and a nightshirt bearing a design titled  _ cat nap _ that just shy of covered them - she still had definitely noticed Meg's own choice of clothing and reacted accordingly.

Lindsay had wasted no time pulling Meg onto her lap and kissing her, her fingers playing at the lines of her neck, the seams of her tank top, and the ruffles at her hips in turn. Eventually Lindsay had buried her face into Meg's neck, pushing her down onto the bed without warning. One hand had held their hips together and urged Meg to wrap her legs around Lindsay's waist while the other had cradled her head, leaving her neck and shoulders open for Lindsay to lavish noisily.

The next few minutes had found them both shirtless, Meg sprawled across Lindsay and grinding shamelessly against the younger girl's raised thigh. Both hands had their full attention to Lindsay's chest, one of them holding her left breast still so that Meg could suckle at her nipple. Lindsay in turn was letting her hands run up and down Meg's back in long strokes, her fingers just grazing her waistband each time.

Then Meg had started to inch downward, and somewhere around the bottom of her ribs, Lindsay panicked.

A single ticklish twitch seemed to snap her out of the daze she was in, her eyes snapping open and her hands retreating to the safety of Meg's shoulders.

"W-wait," she stammered.

Meg looked up with a questioning hum, raising her head far enough to look Lindsay in the eye without either of them having to crane their neck.

"I- listen, we're both tired and-" she cleared her throat, looking away for a breath to gather her thoughts before meeting Meg's eyes again. "If you - if we do this now, I'm probably going to be so worn out afterwards that I can't do anything in return."

Meg smiled, giggling softly. "Did you want to go first, then?"

Lindsay turned a brighter red, averting her eyes again. "I only know what I'm doing in theory," she muttered, fidgeting with a loose strand of Meg's hair.

Meg slid up her body to give her a soft kiss, which Lindsay turned her head to mostly avoid. "Listen," she whispered, resting her forehead to Lindsay's temple, "if you're not ready, or if this is just too weird for you, I'm okay with it."

"I know," Lindsay assured her, wrapping her arms around her to hug her properly. "Don't worry, you're not rushing me. I think I just haven't shaken the part of my brain that says this is cheating," she explained.

They'd shared a few more, much slower kisses, some of which made Lindsay regret stopping Meg. But they had another night still, and she felt sure that would be enough time for her to not feel like she was rushing into it.

After all, they'd already been playing around several months more than she and Michael had been before their first time. And while part of her brain reasoned that at least she'd known her way around a dick before she'd even laid eyes on him, she could make the case she had way more experience in the clitoral arts and had no reason to be intimidated at the thought of sliding her hand down Meg's panties.

And now, with her short robe gradually slipping open, Lindsay was fairly certain Meg wasn't even wearing any panties to put her hands in. Despite that realization, she felt like sleep had rekindled her courage. It certainly hadn't put a damper on it, and she guessed the speed at which she'd felt the fire race through her veins and settle between her thighs meant she hadn't recovered from Meg's attention overnight, either. So she let her hands slip downwards, tugging at Meg's sash to loosen it until there was a stripe of stomach visible between the edges of her robe, then onward from there to rest on her thighs just at the edge of the fabric.

They were short on time, Lindsay knew that much. She couldn't remember what time she'd set her alarm for the night before, but it had to be soon. She didn't want to let that stop her this time, though. Things might have to go faster than she'd intended for them to, but she was determined not to leave Meg hanging again. She had to decide how though… since Meg was on top, she'd either need to roll them over, or-

The thought of pulling her forward until she was straddling her face instead and burying her tongue into a different set of lips crossed her mind, and she moaned far, far louder than she meant to.

"Getting riled up, hmm?" Meg teased, her lips still so close that Lindsay could feel the vibrations of her hum against her own. Her voice was husky in a way she'd only heard it once before - the first night she and Gavin had double-teamed her on the couch months before. The same night Gavin had rushed them out the door without warning after their near-kiss.

Who knew that two months down the line Lindsay would have left a hickey in the exact spot she'd spooked him by accidentally letting her lips graze?

Who knew that Meg would be lapping firmly at her shoulder in the almost the same spot while she slid the covers down between them, leaving her bare breasts exposed to the oddly cool air and Meg's delightfully warm palms?

Lindsay sure as fuck hadn't known, but she wasn't complaining, either.

She squeezed Meg's thighs, letting her thumbs drag across her robe and pull it just a bit further open. She was laying flat on Lindsay again, leaving the satiny edges trapped between them, preserving just a bit of Meg's modesty for the moment. Lindsay took a deep breath, biting her lip as Meg's tongue started to travel back toward her neck. She squeezed at the older girl's legs again, massaging them roughly. A graze of Meg's teeth on her collarbone and she couldn't help but shift her hips under her, prompting an amused sound from Meg before she planted another kiss on the underside of Lindsay's jaw.

By the time their lips met again, Lindsay had let her fingers walk down to the bare part of her friend's legs and started slipping them upwards until half of each hand was hidden beneath her robe.

When her thumbs found the crease between Meg's thighs and stomach, Lindsay found herself wondering if the humidity there was leftover from her shower or spurred by their makeout session.

It was hard not to grab for Meg's face again as they kissed; she was being too much of a tease, pulling back too quickly from each kiss and there was only so far Lindsay could lift her head from the pillow to chase her. But she felt well past the point of being coordinated enough to operate her hands independently, and didn't want to pull back from Meg's hips now that she was so close…

Her thumb slid along the edge of Meg's thigh. Meg whimpered against her lips.

Meg's hair towel unravelled and fell away as Lindsay sunk her fingers into her hair and held on desperately, kissing her for all she was worth.

When she finally let Meg escape to breathe, she fell into a fit of giggles, smiling and kissing the corner of Lindsay's mouth affectionately. She combed Lindsay's hair back with her fingers as she smiled down at her, one corner of her mouth higher than the other, then bit at her lower lip. Slowly she sat up, letting her fingers graze down Lindsay's skin as she did; from hair, to temple, to jaw, to neck, until her fingers dipped along the underside of her breast and spiralled around her nipple, ending with an almost ticklish trace of her nail around her areola.

Lindsay took a visibly deep breath and held it, watching as Meg's eyes followed the path of her own fingers and then trailed over to her other nipple and the purple splotch beside it she'd coaxed into existence the night before. Meg bent back down, kissing the mark tenderly, then pressed her hands to Lindsay's shoulders as she sat back up and dragged herself forward a few inches.

She let out the breath as a raspy gasp at the feeling of Meg's bare skin on her stomach, her thighs just the right kind of damp that their skin stuck together near her sides.

She was at a loss for words as Meg guided her hands through her all-but-open robe to her breasts, urging her to play with them again. Once Lindsay obliged she slid her hands back down to Lindsay's chest, gently teasing her in return. She let out soft moans at the attention, eyes slipping shut and mouth hanging open in a pout. Meg let her weight sink into Lindsay's hands, causing her to squeeze all the more firmly and in turn prompting higher pitched moans from the girl atop her.

When Lindsay couldn't handle the look on her face anymore, she pulled Meg back down, kissing her roughly. One hand slid around Meg's side, coaxing her upwards until her breasts were hanging over Lindsay's face where she had no difficulty kissing all over them both. Her free hand held one still while she kissed from cleavage to peak, sucking on her nipple hard enough that there was a  _ pop _ when she pulled free again.

As she mirrored her actions on the other side, her hand slid along Meg's spine, feeling the band of muscle beside it tighten as her back arched under her touch. Within a few passes Meg's hips were swaying enticingly in time with the gentle strokes.

Lindsay's fingers chanced their way up the curve of her ass, tracing across the bare, firm skin until it reached the crease of her thigh, then wandered back up again until she found the perfect place to cup her hand.

The chiming of her iPhone made her jerk her head so fast she sideswiped Meg's jaw, leaving them both wincing.

"Sorry," Lindsay mumbled, reaching for the nightstand and fumbling with her phone until she'd disabled the alarm, then dropped it on the pillow beside her.

"It's okay," Meg assured her, running a hand reassuringly through her hair once she was done rubbing her jaw.

There was less than an hour before they were due at work.

_ That's still enough time, right? _ Lindsay tried to assure herself, turning her head to nuzzle into Meg's hand.

She slid her hand back up under her robe again, resting it at the top of her hips. Her other hand coaxed Meg's head back down, burying her lips into the side of her friend's neck.

Her heart was pounding now. It wasn't like her to be so startled by her alarm. Was it the adrenaline already flooding her bloodstream from the excitement of touching Meg and the promise of what was to come?

No. She felt caught. The alarm felt like a harsh reminder of normal life, scolding her for indulging in the fantasy she'd been rolling around for the past few weeks, accusing her of going too far, even in the face of Michael's blatant permission.

She tried grabbing Meg's ass again in stark defiance of the anxiety that was welling in the back of her head and stiffening her neck like an advancing ice front.

It felt nice; plush but firm, exactly the way it looked in all her cute underwear.

It also felt frustratingly unnatural and unfamiliar.

_ Of course it's unfamiliar. This is the first time. _

She squeezed harder, rocked her hips up against Meg's.

She sighed, head falling limply back onto her pillow ( _ Gavin's pillow _ , the spiteful voice in the back of her mind reminded her).

Meg tried to kiss her again, then opened her eyes and caught a weak glance from Lindsay before she turned her head to look away.

Carefully, she settled down on Lindsay's chest, just as limp, and let her head rest onto her shoulder.

"It's okay," she whispered.

Lindsay chuckled once.

"It happens," Meg assured her.

Lindsay just chuckled again.

Meg gave a deep, quiet sigh, feeling her own rush fade in the face of Lindsay's sudden mood drop. She closed her eyes tightly, nuzzling into Lindsay's shoulder.

"...Set your alarm for another ten minutes?" she whispered.

"That's  _ definitely _ not enough time," Lindsay countered.

"That's not the point."

Meg's fingers traced their way along the inside of Lindsay's arm until she reached her hand, letting her nails branch out along the lines of her palm before lacing her fingers in between Lindsay's.

"I just wanna lay here."

Lindsay's next chuckle was a bit less remorseful, and Meg sighed in relief as she felt the shoulder under her head shift as Lindsay picked up her phone.

 

* * *

 

He hadn't meant to pin Gavin to the wall, he really hadn't. It was just supposed to be a brief kiss goodnight - another in the series he'd given him that week, testing the waters to figure out what emotion he was even feeling and to see how Gavin would react.

The first night had earned Michael a laugh and a quick ruffle of his hair. The second had left Gavin lingering at the door afterward, both of them struggling to find something to talk about to justify the fact he hadn't left yet.

Tonight, Michael had grabbed his wrist as he headed toward the door, his voice lower than he meant for it to be as he joked, "Wait, where's my kiss goodnight?"

Gavin had laughed as he'd turned back around, twisting his arm in Michael's grip but not actually shaking him off. " _ Micoo _ ," he'd answered, and while his tone implied he was rolling his eyes, his expression was surprisingly bashful.

It had caught Michael off guard, causing him to blink and shift his balance as he figured out how to respond.

"You're bloody impossible, are you aware?" Gavin added as Michael let go.

"I am aware."

"Completely ridiculous."

"So I've been told."

"Absolutely insane."

"Hey now, speak for yourself there."

"Oi, I never said only you were, you mong."

Michael chuckled.

Gavin smiled back at him, the expression lopsided as Michael matched it.

"Well?" Michael asked.

"Well what?" Gavin asked back.

"Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"My kiss goodnight."

"Christ, you were serious?"

"Well, yeah," Michael answered. He pinned his tongue between his eye teeth to keep from licking his lips as the nervousness finally caught up to him.

"You're making a habit out of this, you realize?"

"If you say so."

Then Gavin was laughing, his face close without any warning, no hands on shirts or jaws to guide either of them, just a step forward and the slight scratch of stubble against his lower lip before he could react to line their lips up well.

It was just three seconds, and not even three seconds that felt like an eternity, just an ordinary three seconds that were still a surprisingly long time for Gavin to linger before he pulled back, straightening up in a way that left Michael uncomfortably aware of the fact he was the shorter of the two.

"You happy now?" Gavin teased, and Michael did his best to roll his eyes instead of staring as Gavin licked his lips.

"Yeah, I mean, I  _ guess. _ "

"Oh you're going to be like that, then."

"Like what?"

"A right bastard about things."

"I don't know what you're talking about, boi. I'm just waiting for you to leave so I can go to bed, it's fucking late."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I mean, the door's right behind you dude."

"Well," Gavin started, drawing a deep breath like he was trying to think of a comeback but his brain had already left the room.

"Well?" Michael prompted.

He was actually surprised when Gavin answered him with another kiss and a hand just below his shoulder.

The kiss had progressed from there, hands grappling at shirts and wrists until Gavin was pinned to the wall, one hand held to the wall near his head, the other clutching Michael's shirt along his side. 

He kept expecting Gavin to stop, expecting him to pull away or say no or push him back. Instead he got a deeper kiss, Gavin's lips opening to his, the feeling of his tongue rolling against his so familiar by now that it sent a shiver down his spine. Michael let go of his wrist, only for that hand to clutch at his shoulder, pulling him so their chests were flush together.

He knew  _ he  _ should stop, that this was absurd, that this was above and beyond anything he'd intended, but he pressed on. When Gavin's quick breaths progressed to short moans he let his weight sink against Gavin fully, his head starting to spin too much to hold a respectable distance. 

He was trying to reason out why he was pressing forward still. Something akin to anger, but closer to possessiveness was growling inside his chest, urging him onwards, telling him that this was something he needed to do.

But why? What did he want?

His mind flashed to Lindsay, to the imagined image of Gavin kissing her, the event he hadn't witnessed but which had played itself out in his head over and over.

_ He wanted to steal back the kisses Gavin had taken from Lindsay. _

No, that wasn't right. If he wanted to take back kisses, to make things even, Meg would be the one to target, wouldn't she? Gavin had taken so few compared to her.

He wanted to take kisses from Gavin as a toll, as rent for - no, that wasn't right either, Lindsay wasn't property, she wasn't  _ his _ , if anything he belonged to  _ her _ , so it wasn't-

It wasn't that.

It wasn't jealousy, either. It wasn't a penalty. It wasn't him punishing or fining Gavin, it wasn't part of some bullshit circle they'd fallen into of pass-the-tongue, it was…

Desperation still wasn't quite it. He could handle himself till he got home to Lindsay. That was only one more night. He didn't _ need _ the contact, no matter how accustomed to Gavin's mouth Michael had become. No matter how natural the act of kissing him had become.

But there was something there that "desperation" both came the closest to, and didn't quite cover. There was a need to their kisses, an urgency driving Michael to keep Gavin pinned to the wall. His lips had never moved against his friend's this quickly before, or with this much force, even when Lindsay's hands would roam too low on his stomach as she whispered encouragement into his ear.

His teeth nipped at Gavin's lips with most every motion, causing the Brit to respond with a steady string of whimpers that only drove Michael on faster and fueled his determination. Surprisingly, Gavin was keeping up with him perfectly, no hesitation to any of his kisses. Between that and his steady grip on Michael's shoulders, Michael was getting almost dizzy just from giving in to his desires.

He let up suddenly, gasping in shock as the thought managed to filter up through his brain.

Desire.

He wanted.

"Micoo?" Gavin's voice was too quiet, too concerned, too low, and most certainly too out of breath.

Michael drew another harsh breath, gathering enough air and deliberately avoiding looking him in the eye before he ducked his head, burying his lips against Gavin's neck.

When his head rolled away easily, leaving his neck open to him, Michael was the one shuddering. He tried to find something to focus on, his hand clenching on a section of Gavin's shirt and his lips pressing deep against him. He could feel Gavin's skin go taut against his kiss as he stiffened, holding his breath, then swallowed hard, letting out a small gasp just above Michael's head.

Then Michael let his lips move, let them kiss insistently from Gavin's collar on upwards until there was stubble like sandpaper against his nose, then turned back again. Gavin relaxed noticeably on his second pass, breathing again and letting his grip on Michael's arm soften. He gasped again when teeth grazed his skin, groaned when the wet heat of Michael's tongue followed, muttered Michael's name as his weight sunk against his chest, pinning him harder to the wall from knee to shoulder. 

"Michael," he whispered breathlessly.

Michael pulled back from his neck, not far enough to see his face but enough to draw a breath to respond. "Gavin?"

His only answer was another squeeze at his arm.

Michael waited another breath or two before turning his head up, kissing at the underside of Gavin's jaw before righting himself. He sought out his lips immediately, looking only there, still avoiding looking Gavin in the eye. Only there did Michael finally find any hesitation in his reactions, Gavin tilting his head awkwardly like he'd suddenly forgotten how to kiss.

He pulled back slightly, the brush of his lips chaste against Gavin's before he left a gap between them. Michael willed his eyes to stay shut, not ready to see his reaction or admit that it was time to stop.

He was sure if Gavin looked him in the eye right now, he'd see straight through him - that he'd somehow be able to read his mind and know the thoughts lingering there, the ones he was trying to drown out by losing himself in the heat of the moment.

Then Michael felt a twitch against his hips -  _ what was - just my imagination, right?  _ \- and realized that the wrist he'd been pinning to the wall had escaped -  _ when did I let go? shit, was it that long ago? _ \- and was hanging loosely from the bottom edge of Michael's shirt, just beside his right hip.

The next twitch might have been him. Either way, he was definitely the one after that, the one that happened when his eyes darted up to Gavin's finally. Michael knew his eyes were wide, too startled for his own liking, but he was operating on pure distilled instinct and any focus he might have had to hold a poker face had already gone to trying not to look to begin with.

Gavin stared back, his eyelids heavy, a crooked, half-open smirk forming on his face as he noticed Michael looking him over breathlessly. His hand wound tighter in the edge of Michael's shirt, his one finger and his thumb reaching through the fabric and pinching his side playfully. Michael fidgeted away from the grab and then glared at him, plotting revenge with his face mere inches away and all Gavin's escape routes blocked by Michael's weight against him and arms pinning him him.

If Gavin had intended the pinch to snap Michael out of his nervous overthinking, it had worked. So effectively, in fact, that that possibility didn't even occur to him.

He kissed Gavin again, twisting his head until their lips were locked and Gavin's head was securely against the wall. When their tongues met it was with a moan from both, though Gavin's started as a laugh. By now Michael was supported more by Gavin and the wall than his own feet, a fact that left him keenly aware of how long they'd been kissing, or, more specifically, the effects it was having on both of them.

Two of Gavin's fingers - the ones not wrapped up in Michael's shirt - brushed against his bare side, just below the knot of fabric.

Michael's hips jerked hard enough that the resulting gasp broke their kiss.

"Mich-"

He reclaimed Gavin's lips before he could finish, eyes clenched shut and nails digging into his own palms as he struggled to hold still. Gavin hadn't sounded upset - breathless, maybe a bit distant, but there had been no anger or fear in the syllable he'd managed.

That almost scared Michael more than the alternative.

But only almost.

He let himself grind forward again, a low groan rumbling through his chest. He wasn't sure how long he'd been hard - ignoring any erections he got while kissing Gavin had been second nature for months - only that it'd been long enough the fabric of his lounge pants was starting to feel too rough, and adding friction didn't help that. Gavin pulled free from his lips again, letting out a ragged gasp and tilting his head back to keep his mouth out of Michael's reach as he gulped for air.

Michael hesitated; he didn't want to pull back, but he also thought it was best to fight the instinctive urge to dive for his friend's neck again. Instead he let his forehead rest against the wall over Gavin's shoulder, letting out long, hot breaths against his shirt. He felt another twitch against his hips, but this time he let himself admit what he was feeling - the impatient pulsing sensation he knew all too well, except now he was on the other end of it.

Michael rocked his hips against Gavin's again, this time keeping the motion slow and controlled, letting himself focus for the first time on the obvious hardness nestled against his thigh.

"Christ-" Gavin hissed, the hand on Michael's shoulder digging in tightly enough that it brought him to a halt. Michael could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he felt Gavin's other hand let go of his shirt, dropping lower instead. It landed near his pocket, standing there on outstretched fingers with his palm still hovering above.

Michael took a deep breath, holding it and listening carefully to the way Gavin was panting just above his ear. He sounded like he was breathing through clenched teeth, and when he let his cheek rest to Gavin's neck, it was taut, his muscles quivering in time with his ragged breaths. Michael pressed his lips to his skin, just inside his collar, willing his concentration back upwards.

His hips still gave another slow roll.

Gavin groaned out loud and his palm landed on Michael's hip like his fingers had lost their footing under it, pressing insistently at an angle that made no sense. He wasn't pushing him away or trying to get free, but he also wasn't trying to hold him to himself either. If he followed the motion, it only shoved him sideways.

He obliged, but he found a handful of Gavin's shirt near his waist first. Michael needed  _ something _ of Gavin to hold onto before the nail marks on his palms were permanent, and going for pinning his wrist again was out of the question. He'd already tried too many times to reach for breasts that weren't there, hands drawn upwards by instinct, so he hoped mimicking the knot of fabric Gavin had reduced his shirt to would help. He leaned harder into the arm braced on the wall, tilting his head back up to kiss at Gavin's jaw and try to entice him back into another proper kiss.

Except their next kiss was less a joining of their lips and more a pair of broken moans exhaled against each other. Michael shuddered at the sound and the way Gavin's lips brushed past his, both stilling at the corner of each others' mouths. He let his hips rock again, let himself be sure once and for all that the ridge against his hip wasn't a zipper but Gavin himself.

If the low moan Gavin let out wasn't confirmation enough, the fact his hips rolled in response signed and sealed it.

Michael's hand jumped from Gavin's shirt to his cheek in a flash, turning his face to meet his sudden barrage of desperate kisses.

He felt like he had to act quickly before second thoughts could catch back up to him. There was no alcohol to blame his decisions on, no girls to show off for, and while they'd spent far too much of the past few days discussing the fact Meg and Lindsay might be fucking at that very moment, they'd both carefully avoided even joking about doing the same.

He'd thought about it though. God had he thought about it. First Griffon's words had dug up the possibility from where he'd intentionally buried it in the recesses of his mind, then watching Gavin's godawful knowing smiles during Play Pals had left it in hand, still smelling of the dirt it had been dug out of. But even then, even after he'd kissed Gavin for no reason except he could, even after he'd lain awake the night before, finally letting himself imagine his wife naked atop another woman, even when he'd tried to picture where either of them would fit into the equation… They'd still never been alone when he thought about it.

And now he had no idea what he was doing, only that he had no desire to stop.

Gavin pushed him another inch to the side, an action Michael made an offended noise in response to but obeyed anyway. He made no attempt to break free from Michael's lips, and that gave him a pass for the moment, even though the sidestep left Michael aching as he suddenly had no pressure on his cock for the first time since it had introduced itself to the equation.

Almost as soon as Michael scooted over, he felt Gavin's hand moving against his hip. At first he was perplexed - so much so that his kisses drug out to a standstill. How he heard Gavin's zipper over the pounding of his own heart was beyond him, but it was a sound that sent shivers up his spine.

"Gav?" he asked hoarsely.

"Ah," Gavin gasped, his grip on Michael's shoulder tightening for a split second and the hand at his pants stilling. "I- these tight pants aren't always the most comfortable," he explained, voice sheepish but just as hoarse as Michael's.

A few quips surfaced in his mind about how that was Gavin's own damn fault.

In the interest of not prolonging the interruption, Michael just chuckled and whispered, "Okay," before claiming his lips again.

Gavin's hand fumbled around a second more before retreating to tangle in the edge of Michael's shirt again. Still, Michael gave it another moment, until his neck was starting to get sore from the awkward angle, before he shifted back toward center. He was immediately caught off guard by the sheer heat of the now even more obvious lump in Gavin's pants. He tried to focus instead on the change in its angle, putting two and two together to realize he'd been trapped down one leg of his pants before and all that fishing around had been to bring himself upright.

Gavin hadn't bothered redoing his fly though, and the edges of the metal teeth were just sharp enough that Michael could feel them through the loose cotton of his pants. It was no problem against his hip when he ground against Gavin again in such a way that they found the divots between each other's stomach and hip bone, but when he tried to shift closer to center, it poked him in more sensitive areas. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to make him nervous and a little too cautious with his angles.

Because he was already rutting against his best friend, so hey, what was a little more to make his heart pound?

Gavin pulled free from his lips, gasping for air. Michael tried to chase after him, but opened his eyes in the process and was greeted by the sight of Gavin tilting his head back, pressing his crown hard against the wall, seemingly struggling to straighten his throat out as much as possible to give the oxygen the most direct path to his lungs he could. Michael gasped, feeling his face tingle from the rush of blood and hormones at the sight of Gavin reacting quite so desperately.

After a few hard pants, Gavin gave a long groan, rocking his hips quite deliberately. Michael exhaled sharply, feeling his knees go momentarily weak from the friction. Gavin bit his lip and repeated the action, face almost pained as he arched up off the wall to grind into Michael.

Michael had never thought the words "fuck it" with quite as much conviction as he did in that moment.

He pressed his lips into Gavin's jaw, tucked one hand in between them, and snaked it lower until he was cupping Gavin's dick through the thin fabric of his underwear.

His heart seemed to stop as he held his breath and gave a slow, long rub down his length. But there was no startled shout of objection, no sudden recoil, no flustered squawking, and, perhaps most surprisingly, no punch to the face that sent him stumbling back onto the bed.

There was only a moan that seemed to travel all the way up Gavin, starting with the roll of his hips into Michael's palm and ending as a vibration he could feel under his lips as they pressed near Gavin's throat.

Michael groaned right back, finding a tender spot along his friend's neck and growling the sound into it. His hand and Gavin's hips only took a few tries to get into sync with each other. Michael's palm rubbed down over and over, feeling the slight squish of his head push past the heel of his hand and give way to the firmer length below, then gliding back up more gently, only to repeat the motion. His fingers brushed past the bottom of Gavin's zipper with each motion, the metal rough on the backs of his knuckles, the seam of his underwear's fly obvious under his fingertips.

He could feel Gavin playing with his pocket, the hand that had been twisting his shirt now plucking at his lounge pants like he had no idea what to do with himself.

Michael twisted his hand to give his cock a squeeze through his underwear, and while it left Gavin groaning, the slight twitch of his length in Michael's hand meant Michael was moaning first.

His brain went foggy after that, for how long he didn't know. His eyes were half closed as he kissed up and down Gavin's neck, rubbing him more frantically by the minute, his hips rolling to meet Gavin's whenever they lifted from the wall. There was something hypnotizing about hearing Gavin's moans above him. It was far from the same sounds that Lindsay made when he'd press her against the front door and bury his fingers inside of her, but the effect was nearly the same, leaving Michael dizzy in all the right ways - overheated and absent-minded but not immobile or ready to collapse.

There were strokes now where his fingers passed over slivers of skin showing through Gavin's fly, the buttonless overlap of fabric doing a poor job of containing his hard on now that he was well past full mast. The first few touches of skin on skin sent a jolt through Michael, the electricity shocking his eyes open long enough to pull his lips from Gavin's jaw and catch his breath.

He used his free hand to grab Gavin by the hair - a bit more roughly than he intended, but not enough so that Gavin complained - and kissed him hard.

Gavin's hands didn't seem to know where to go after that. The one on his shoulder found its way to his neck, holding him into the kiss at first, then started fumbling down Michael's back, grabbing handfuls of his shirt along the way like he had to climb down or he might fall. He settled somewhere near his waist, his kneading fingers gathering so much of Michael's shirt in his hand it left it pulled taut around his stomach and part of his back bare, the seam rolled into Gavin's fist.

Then there were fingers touching - no,  _ caressing _ his hip bone, and Michael actually whimpered.

Soft circles drew Gavin's fingers across Michael's stomach, slow and gentle but, surprisingly, not hesitant. The hand tucked between them, forcing Michael just enough back that he couldn't grind into Gavin's stomach. He let out a hard breath at the loss of contact, then held his lungs at empty when he realized how close Gavin's fingers were inching.

Michael's weight shifted to his toes and he mentally counted the steps to the door, replaying the route over and over, twist of the doorknob and all, assuring himself he'd decide where he was running once he was safely down the elevator.

Then Gavin's hand was actually wrapped around him and he was frozen to the ground, frozen  _ completely _ , until his lungs were burning from being empty too long and he inhaled so deeply it made him momentarily in all the bad ways and his whole weight collapsed against Gavin.

It wasn't that it felt particularly good. It wasn't that he was so many days removed from that desperate night with Lindsay that he was starved for physical contact. It wasn't even that they'd been making out for so long that his lips were starting to get sore and his nuts were tighter to his body than he remembered them being in months.

It was that Gavin Casual Homophobia™ Free-Ramsey was willfully groping his cock, and moreover, that he was doing it without any coercing and without the presence of their respective ladies to reward them for the actions or any cameras to tantalize their fans.

Michael contemplated a few taunts in response, but couldn't recall how to get the syllables to his vocal chords.

Instead he just let out a very undignified groan, burying his face into Gavin's shoulder and humping his hand shamelessly.

With how loose his pants were (and his lack of underwear underneath), Gavin had no trouble wrapping his hand all the way around Michael's cock. The friction of the fabric was too rough, but he was moving too slow for it to actually hurt. It helped that his hand was managing to move on the outside of the fabric more than dragging it up and down Michael's length.

That same slowness left Michael jerking his hips impatiently into Gavin's hand, all the while letting out quick, gasping groans and frustrated whimpers just behind Gavin's ear.

Gavin's own clothes were tight by comparison. While his jeans were no longer in the way, his erection was obviously straining against the remaining, very elastic layer of clothing left containing it.

And Michael was regaining just enough composure to realize the harsh gasps Gavin was letting out against his temple might be because his boxer briefs were too tight and too rough for all the attention he was giving him.

Michael lipped his lips and folded them together, taking a deep breath through his nose before burying his face in the crook of Gavin's neck. One finger, then two, slid in between the layers of fabric and brushed across bare foreskin, following his circumference until it reached the point where he was trapped against his own stomach. Slowly he stroked back and forth, tracing the curve with a light touch and listening closely for Gavin's reaction.

It came in the form of a low hum and his weight shifting noticeably onto Michael, as though he was surrendering to whatever the older boy wanted for the moment.

His other fingers slipped past the edge of his fly and, with a bit of fishing, pulled Gavin through, leaving Michael cradling his precum-wet head in his palm.

Gavin wasted no time groaning and grinding against him.

Michael knew his dick was going to feel different, and not just because it was Gavin's, not his, or because he was sure it was bigger than his (though a comparison from memory alone told him it wasn't by as much as he'd expected it to be). Gavin was uncut, a concept Michael hadn't bothered to ponder until their first discussion about it on the podcast some years prior. He'd spent a little more time thinking about Gavin's dick than he was comfortable with at the time, then had all but forgotten about that key difference, right up until he'd felt him hard against his back that night he'd made out with Meg on the couch.

Since then he'd contemplated it more than he cared to admit, occasionally finding himself miming strokes just above himself, trying to imagine what it would be like to jack off by sliding that sleeve of nerves instead of by rubbing his spit-slickened across his skin. Once or twice he'd even let himself try and figure out what angle jacking off someone else would even take, and if it would matter if his thumb was rubbing along a different edge than gripping himself afforded.

Not once during any of it had he thought about what it would be like to rub his hand across Gavin's bell end and find his thumb wet from tracing his slit, nor how it would feel to start spreading that wetness down the vein of his cock just to feel it move with his touch.

It was Gavin squeezing him absent-mindedly that snapped him back to reality. He drew a few ragged breaths before letting himself moan again, mouthing the ridge of Gavin's neck and letting himself pant there.

He fell into a more intentional rhythm, getting the hang of stroking Gavin's cock with surprising ease. His heart was still pounding from the mere thought of how quickly things had escalated; it had been only minutes since Gavin had seemed reluctant to give him another kiss goodnight, and now he was letting him touch him overtly sexually, and perhaps more shockingly, was returning the attention. His rhythm almost matched Michael's, leaving them stroking in opposite directions at the same time in almost a pedaling motion, both barely holding their hips still.

Then Gavin tightened his grip and Michael shouted in surprise, gasping for air before he sank his teeth into Gavin's shoulder, shirt and all, deep enough that he yelped in return.

Michael rocked his hips hard, pushing Gavin back into the wall, and bit down again, this time a bit higher up so that he was inside his collar, his teeth and tongue finding bare skin. He felt Gavin's hard on twitch in his grasp in response and groaned approvingly, finding the arrangement a bit more instinctual than their more tentative touches.

His strokes became longer and more deliberate as he grew more accustomed to the feel of Gavin's cock and the angle required to jack it properly. Eventually the only thing difficult about it was how closely their bodies were sandwiched together, limiting the motions of his wrist, but that wasn't something he wanted to give up. (And not at all because he thought Gavin might flee if he let him up off the wall.) (Nope not that in the slightest.) Granted, the bed - less than two feet behind him - was a tempting alternative, but now he'd finally gotten down the motion to jerk his hips in Gavin's hand without the friction of his pants bothering him, and he couldn't be bothered to figure that out in a new position.

...Though maybe if Gavin decided Michael's pants needed to go, too...

The decision Gavin did make around then, however, was the one to nudge Michael's face away from his shoulder and steal a rough, long kiss, groaning all the while. His lips smudged their way across Michael's cheek until his face was buried into the crook of his neck, his rapid, warm breaths still managing to feel cold compared to how hot Michael's skin had become. He muttered a few curses, his first intelligible sounds in a good five minutes, and the hand still tangled in Michael's shirt gathered another few inches of fabric into it, squeezing it for all he was worth.

It hadn't occurred to Michael that this might go on long enough for one of them to cum. He could feel the pressure building, sure, but the awkwardness of his pants being in the way and of trying to hump Gavin's hand when he kept being so overwhelmed he lost grip for seconds at a time. He felt sure that sooner or later, one of them would chicken out and he'd be left to stumble into the shower to finish himself off, and aside from some awkward silences the next day they'd just both act like it had never happened. Gavin's words over the past few days had made it more than clear that however much Michael wanted him -  _ wanted _ him, was fighting off images of dropping to his knees right then and there and pressing his lips to Gavin in ways he was far too sober to even remotely be considering - Gavin didn't quite feel the same and had arrived at this moment with different motivations.

And yet there'd been so little hesitation when he'd taken hold of Michael's cock for the first time, and he seemed determined not to let go of Michael's shirt for even an instant.

No, the possibility hadn't occurred to Michael at all.

So his only warning was a single, ragged-bordering-on-strangled, gasp that Gavin let out against his neck before he threw his head back.

Michael processed the wetness suddenly coating his palm before anything else registered in his mind. The sound Gavin had made came next, then half-formed memories of his cock pulsing in Michael's hand that gave way to the present reality of it still twitching in his grip, albeit far more sporadically.

Michael let go, slowly, his mind blank as he tried to take it all in. Gavin gasped from the loss of contact, his hold on Michael's shirt slipping. His other hand had fallen completely still, though it was still wrapped tightly around Michael's erection.

His hand was all but coated in cum. Gavin's cum, at that.

He'd  _ made _ him cum. He'd made  _ Gavin _ cum. He'd jerked off  _ a guy _ until he came. Hell - he'd made  _ anyone _ besides his own wife cum.

Michael stared straight at the wall, wide-eyed and unblinking, feeling his heart hammering all over again as he struggled to process the situation he had very much put himself into.

He felt a rush as Gavin's hand finally started to move again, his hips rocking into the motion before he even realized what he was doing. He heard Gavin let out a satisfied hum at the reaction before he repeated the motion, and Michael bit his lip just shy of pain to keep himself grounded while he tried to figure out what to do about his sticky hand.

When Gavin raised his head to look him in the eye, he finally gave up and just wiped it off on his PJs.

Gavin stroked him again, smirking slightly as Michael's eyes struggled to stay open at the sensation. Once Michael managed to focus again, he was greeted by a very tired smile and the near-irresistible urge to drag Gavin onto the bed and rut against his stomach until he came all over him.

"Christ," Gavin muttered, voice almost too quiet to even count as a whisper. "That was something, wasn't it, boi?"

"You could say that." Michael laughed silently, giving in to the urge to kiss him, pinning his head back against the wall. He pressed a hand to his shoulder and pinned him there, too, for good measure.

_ Is this how Lindsay feels about Meg? _ he wondered absently.

Gavin sighed softly into the kiss and Michael rocked against his hand again, reminding him he was still hard.

But Gavin's grip had weakened, and no amount of frustrated groans from Michael seemed to be jostling him far enough into the realm of lucidity for him to realize he'd left his best friend hanging. Yes, it was well past when either of them had meant to go to bed. Yes, they'd both gotten one hell of a workout from the day's filming and he'd been tired even before Gavin got up to leave earlier. And yes, Meg had joked repeatedly before that if you think Gavin conks out easily normally, you should see him after sex.

But god damn't, he was bordering on blue balls, and besides, he already had semen all over his pants, so what was a bit more?

Gavin planted another kiss on his lips, very nearly missing his mark, and Michael resigned himself to the fact the window of opportunity had passed and he was just going to have to deal with his problem himself.

Carefully he guided Gavin to the bed - he was standing on his own just fine, but they'd been locked in one place for so long that Michael's legs were sore and he assumed Gavin's would be too. Once he was sitting, Michael ran his fingers affectionately through Gavin's hair, earning a wide, sleepy grin in return.

"You should head to bed," he told him, patting his shoulder. "Just remember to put your pants on before you go in the hall."

Gavin laughed at that, looking down sheepishly and tucking himself back into his underwear. By the time he looked up, Michael had turned and nearly rounded the corner. "Where you going?" Gavin called after him.

"I just need a shower," he explained, shrugging before he ducked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

He managed to get the water on before the panic hit him. A hundred variations of  _ what did I just do?! _ crossed his mind, ranging from disbelief to fear to excitement and everywhere in between.

But panic slowly gave way to replaying the events in his mind, and overanalysis fell to the wayside as he recalled the sensations of Gavin's hands all over him. His erection had never really left, wavering while he'd worried himself nauseous but springing back to full attention between the feel of hot water running down his body and the still-fresh memory of Gavin's hips grinding against his.

It wasn't hard to lean against the wall and pretend he still had Gavin pinned there. Michael's imagination was even kind enough to adjust to the change of scenery, piecing together images from past swimming trips and sensations from the few forays into shower sex that he and Lindsay had attempted to assemble a very naked Gavin trapped before him, hair dripping wet and skin sticking to his in that way only wet skin could manage.

But that wasn't the image in his mind when he came.

Instead, it was the same one that had drifted into his mind just before Gavin's orgasm; the one of him kneeling in front of Gavin, tongue finding its way up his length from base to tip...

He grunted and pounded his fist against the wall, struggling to stay braced on his elbow as his cock pulsed in his hand, emptying his seed on the tile. He gulped air after the first shot, a shiver and groan running down his spine as the pressure finally released.

Michael clenched his eyes shut tightly and let his forehead rest to the wall, groaning again as his muscles finally started to relax.

He slumped down into the tub after that, ladeling double handfuls of water across his face and back through his hair as he caught his breath. When that didn't seem to help, he turned the knobs until the water was only lukewarm, hoping that splashing himself with cooler water would bring him down to earth faster.

It worked, but it also made lounging back in the tub and giving his legs time to recover from ages of standing in one spot a lot less comfortable.

When he finally stumbled out of the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair was still upwards of damp and he was stuck traipsing around in a towel since he hadn't been in the presence of mind to take another pair of pants into the bathroom with him and he wasn't about to put back on the ones from earlier.

He was greeted by the sight of Gavin curled up near the edge of the bed, blankets thrown back and just a sheet pulled up over his shoulders, his pants and shoes abandoned on the floor beside the bed.

Michael chuckled.

"Dumbass was too tired to even make it back to his own damn bed," he sighed, voice full of amused affection.

He shuffled around the room, digging a pair of boxers and a tank top from his suitcase, then shuffled back to the bathroom to change and hang up the towel.

He felt like he was asleep before he even hit the pillow, flopping limply on his back and letting his arms rest above his head.

Gavin was snoring. He didn't know Gavin snored.

He closed his eyes. He'd give him shit about that - and deal with the consequences of sleeping on wet hair - in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell. Okay. Wow. There's a lot of thanks in order here.
> 
>  
> 
> First of all, thank you literally everyone reading this for your patience. The last few months have been a horrible, awful, bumpy ride for me, the details of which I will spare everyone who's not already heard them from. But I am back, and now that I've finally finished this chapter, I feel more alive than I have in ages. So, thank you for your patience.
> 
>  
> 
> Second, thank you to all the people who sent me amazing messages of encouragement during my time off and while I was writing this over the past two weeks. You guys really kept me going, and I appreciate the fuck out of it. I am legit amazed at how many people have been rooting for me, and while I know half of you were only in it because you want me to hurry up and get to the OT4 smut, I really do feel like this is the kindest fandom I've ever been in. You're freaking incredible.
> 
>  
> 
> Third, thank you to the people who individually helped make this possible. Thank you to roxashighwind not only for the word wars but for the hours you've spent reading over this chapter while it was in progress, reassuring me that I'm not as repetitive as I repetitive as I repetitive as I think I am. Thank you to my jerk of a kismeisis and my wonder of a moirail who've both continued to have word wars with me and help me get out words even though neither one of them quite approve me me writing this. And thank you littlefootncera for spending the last five hours of this damned night writing alongside me to help me crank out the last 3k and get it posted before I went to bed, as promised. This fic wouldn't be what it is without any of you guys.
> 
>  
> 
> Heart the fuck out of you all.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. That fucking On The Spot episode, amirite?!


	16. Dirty Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just hang it all out to dry. Yeah, that’s it. Right there. Right next to Michael’s reputation.

It was Wednesday night, and things had finally settled down enough that Lindsay felt like things were back to normal.

Monday night - their first back home, after Lindsay had driven the two hours to pick him and Gavin up that morning, taken them both straight to a half day of work, and headed home via the Whataburger drive-thru - Michael had wanted to do nothing but touch her and, eventually, fix his sleep schedule. The next day she was still too discombobulated from readjusting to life at home and not having two needy animals around to even touch the dishes after dinner, a chore Michael had taken care of that morning instead.

She'd finally unpacked their suitcases after dinner that night, sorting it and the previous week's worth of laundry into as few loads as possible.

Her own suitcase had been quick, since everything she'd taken save her bra had been junky, comfy clothes she could throw into one pile. Michael on the other hand had managed to mix several wristbands, two hats, and a few other things that didn't need to go near the washing machine in with his actual clothes, leaving her to sort it a couple handfuls at a time.

Then one pair of pajamas crunched slightly under her fingers, and she made a confused face, shaking out the wadded up pants to see what was slightly crispy on the fabric.

It was something that looked suspiciously like dried snot.

Given its position on the front of his pants, it didn't take a lot of mental gymnastics to figure out he hadn't been blowing his nose on his clothes.

"God damn't Michael!" she hollered across the house. Her voice carried enough bemusement that she was sure he'd know she wasn't actually angry.

"What the fuck do you want, woman?!" he shouted back, playing along.

"How did you manage to get jizz all over the outside of your fucking pants? Couldn't you have wiped it off on the bed or something?"

She could hear Michael choking on his drink even from around the corner.

"Oh," she said in a scolding tone, standing up and carrying the pants with her out to the living room, "so you knew about this and you didn't bother to warn me I was going to be handling crusty cumstains when I unpacked your suitcase?"

She held up the pants, held at the sides to display the offending stain, and leveled a stare at him over them.

Out of everyone Michael knew, Lindsay was the only one who could keep a perfectly straight face when she was fucking with someone, so he had to rely on her intentionally silly phrasing to assure him her scowl was for effect.

Still, he was having trouble coming up with any sort of defense as he felt his stomach clench from the memory of  _ why _ that was there, and more importantly, that he'd yet to tell Lindsay.

"Geez," he muttered finally, hoping that taking another sip of his soda would cover enough of his face she couldn't see him blushing, "you act like that's the worst thing you've ever had to wash my spunk out of."

Lindsay glared at him. He raised his eyebrow, taking a long, slow drag of his soda for dramatic effect.

Even if it had been an accident, she'd still never forgiven him for The Incident that had left her shampooing cum out of her hair in Geoff's bathroom.

She informed him of this by hurling his pajamas across the room so they hit him in the face. He just barely managed to get his soda out of the way first, and was still left coughing as some of what was left in his mouth found its way up his nose.

He grinned at her after pulling them off his head.

"Just for that, you're doing the laundry," she informed him. " _ All _ of it."

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

Lindsay rolled her eyes as she turned back around, flashing him a single finger salute over her shoulder.

He slouched down on the couch, breathing a sigh of relief and putting his feet up on the table. Crisis averted.

...Or at least, mostly averted. He definitely was not covering the slight tent in his jeans with the dirty pants. Definitely not. Because he definitely had no boner to hide.

Okay, he had one, but that was definitely about The Incident with Lindsay, not-

He flexed his hand uncomfortably, the memory of slickness rubbing across it suddenly surfacing. He coughed again to cover the sounds that mentally accompanied it.

"I meant now, not later!" Lindsay hollered from the direction of the laundry room, snapping him out of it.

He chugged the rest of his soda, wandering on into the kitchen with the empty can in one hand and the pants held what he hoped was inconspicuously in front of his crotch with the other. Lindsay probably wouldn't notice anyway, but right now he was a fan of being careful.

Luckily for him, she was leaning on the counter, focused on her phone, and she didn't even acknowledge him as he rinsed out the can and set it next to the sink.

"What's up?" he asked her a moment later, resting his chin on her shoulder and nosily trying to peer at her phone.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thought Meg would have texted me by now."

"Oh yeah. You were supposed to pick her up tonight."

She nodded, turning off her phone and standing back up. She leaned to give him a quick kiss, but it was all instinctive, her mind clearly distant.

"Maybe her plane got delayed?" Michael offered.

"Maybe. I just hope she didn't pay for an Uber or something after I promised I'd pick her up."

"Well what time was her plane supposed to get in?"

"Almost an hour ago."

"Oh."

Lindsay hoisted herself up onto the counter, sighing and unlocking her phone again. "I guess I'll text her, and if she doesn't answer, I'll text Gavin."

"Sounds like a plan. Did you want to go to dinner with them if she's back soon enough?"

Lindsay shook her head. "Nah, I'm sure she'll be tired, and we've got leftovers in the fridge anyway."

"You sure?"

She finished typing her message and looked up. "Yeah, why? Do you want to?"

Michael was quick to make a dismissive farting noise. " _ Please _ . I got enough of Gavin this weekend. I'm sure we'll be over at their place on Friday, no sense blowing money on something tonight when we have leftovers."

"You could have just said no," Lindsay chuckled.

Michael stuck out his tongue, making his way toward the laundry room. "You could have just said no," he mocked, chucking the pants into the wash machine.

 

* * *

 

 

"Boo!"

Meg yelped as Lindsay threw her arms around her shoulders, nearly banging her knee on her desk in the process.

“There you are!” Lindsay cheered, squeezing her tightly and nuzzling her cheek with hers.

"Here I am!" Meg agreed slightly less enthusiastically, patting Lindsay's arms softly. "Where else would I be?"

"I dunno," Lindsay admitted, standing up and leaning on the back of Meg's chair. "You never called last night, so I got a bit worried."

Meg's eyes went wide, leaving her glad Lindsay couldn't see her face from behind her. "Oh, shit! You did say you were going to pick me up, didn't you?"

"Yeah, you dork. I did say that, and then I texted you like a bajillion times last night."

"Did you?"

"Yeah? Didn't you get them?"

"Honestly? I don't remember."

"Jesus. Were you just that drunk, or did Gavin miss you so much he banged your brains out?"

Meg shrugged. "A little of column A, a little of column B?"

Lindsay made an over-exaggerated gagging noise.

"But no, Griffon picked me up. Gavin went right to their place after work so we all went out for burgers and then hung out back at their place."

"Without us?" Lindsay whined playfully, slumping down to hang her arms around Meg's neck again.

Meg sighed, leaning her head into Lindsay's and lowering her voice. "Well, the last time we all went over there together didn't exactly end swimmingly, now did it?"

"No," she admitted, slumping further. "But we're going to be more careful, I thought. Plus we had work the next morning, so there was only so drunk we could have gotten."

Meg reached up to wrap her hand into Lindsay's, closing her eyes. "Sorry. I just thought that not giving anything a chance to happen  _ was _ being more careful, I guess."

"Then I  _ guess _ I'll forgive you," she answered, hugging her tighter.

Meg chuckled softly, reaching up higher to pet Lindsay's hair affectionately.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Lindsay purred, nuzzling her cheek against Meg's.

Meg smiled wider. "Aww, you remembered!"

"Gavin forget again?"

"He thought it was tomorrow."

She snorted. "He  _ would _ think it was Friday the 13th."

Meg giggled, headbutting Lindsay softly to separate their faces as she dropped her hand back down to her keyboard. "So, what'd you get me?" she teased, reaching for her mouse.

"Hmm… nothing yet. Thought maybe we could all go out somewhere this weekend. But I'm sure I could think of  _ something _ ," she chuckled, resting her chin on Meg's shoulder.

Meg laughed, clearing her throat before responding with the same tone. "Oh,  _ really _ ?"

Then she felt Lindsay's lips brush her cheek and drew a long, unsteady breath.

"Being careful means going back to nothing at work," she whispered, raising her hand back to squeeze Lindsay's hands again.

Lindsay's voice was too close to her ear. "C'mon, we're in your office. It's pitch black in here. No one's gonna notice a kiss or two."

"You say that, but…"

"Okay." She shrugged, loosening her hug but not quite letting go.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine, I understand."

Lindsay didn't sound upset, not even jokingly so, but as she started to let go and stand up, Meg felt her chest tighten anyway.

"...Let's go find somewhere they won't notice?" she offered, clinging tight to her arm to keep her from escaping quite yet.

"What?"

"We can go hide somewhere. Then you can have all the kisses you want."

Lindsay laughed, giving her temple a quick smooch and pulling her arm free. "It's okay, really. I just thought it was the best way to tell you I missed you," she explained.

"I know," Meg answered, turning her chair to face her finally. "And I missed you too."

She found herself nibbling at her lower lip as Lindsay looked her over.

"There's no point to going to all that trouble just for a couple kisses," she said finally, shrugging.

Meg bit her lip harder, stifling the unexpected - okay, no it wasn't, but  _ still _ \- urge to say it didn't have to just be a couple of kisses.

"We'll get a chance later, or this weekend," Lindsay suggested.

Meg nodded slowly. They would. Something about being alone with everyone again terrified her, after her time away from them, her talk with Griffon, and especially the weekend alone with Lindsay. "We will," she agreed.

_ But that will be for the boys, won't it _ , she wanted to add.

"It's still good to see you again. It wasn't quite the same without you around."

"It wasn't?"

Lindsay shrugged again. "I thought so at least."

Meg nodded.

Lindsay nodded.

Meg twisted side to side in her chair.

"I'll see you later then?" Lindsay asked.

"Yeah."

"Dinner tonight?"

"Maybe."

"...You okay?"

All at once, her heart pounding in her chest, Meg pushed out of her seat, rolled up onto her tiptoes, took Lindsay's cheeks in hand, and kissed her square on the lips.

Lindsay squeaked at the sudden contact, her arms rigid at her sides as she didn't know whether to embrace Meg in return or push her away - after all, they'd only just finished discussing that the office was no place for such brazen displays of affection.

She rested her hands on Meg's shoulders, kissing back for a second with just enough force to feel like she wasn't rejecting the attention, then gently pulled back out of Meg's reach.

"I'm not gonna say I didn't like that, but  _ damn _ , woman," she teased, casting a quick glance out of the room. No one was anywhere within sight; they were safe.

"Sorry?" Meg offered with a grimace.

Lindsay giggled. "Next time, let's just skip all the dramatics and get right to it?"

"Well, if you insist."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, glanced out of the room again, then leaned to give Meg another quick peck on the lips.

"Missed you," Meg whispered, resting a hand on Lindsay's arm and squeezing softly.

"I know," Lindsay whispered back.

Meg leaned forward, resting her head on Lindsay's chest and wrapping her arms around her waist. The younger girl pulled her into a hug in return, rocking in place for a moment.

Lindsay pulled away first, face red, heart pounding hard enough Meg had heard.

She cleared her throat. "I should get back to work."

"We both should."

"See you later?"

Meg hesitated, then grinned. "Escort you to your office, m'lady?" she asked, turning and offering her arm.

Lindsay snorted and ducked her head as she tried to keep from laughing. "God damn it. Yes," she agreed, hooking her elbow into Meg's, "but only if you promise never to say that again."

"I make no such promise."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Go! was going so badly that Ryan had shut his eyes and was pressing the trigger blindly, lounging back in his chair, a smile that translated roughly to "I'm going to my happy place so I don't think about using this bat on everyone in this room instead of the car" crossing his face between sips of Diet Coke. Michael was bouncing in his chair impatiently while he smacked his virtual car. He'd been unbearably hyper all day, to the point of nearly knocking over Jack's desk not five minutes before, and the boring repetition of the Go! was not helping in the slightest.

It was already late enough in the day that no one was holding their breath on any full-fledged Let's Plays that afternoon. Instead everyone had returned from lunch to find Geoff ranting about Jack's absence and "having his children stolen from him by Jon", which generally set the stage for whatever would result in the least effort on Geoff's part.

Ten minutes and counting of pressing the same button over and over was far from the longest or most asinine thing they'd ever done for a sticker - even mentioning blimps still left a bad taste in their mouths. Just the same, even in the face of getting to do nothing but stand around with a microphone, Geoff was obviously getting impatient.

Everyone else was already well past the mark and had started arguing over what parts of a car corresponded to what biology.

Lindsay glanced up from her phone long enough to check up on her boss without pointing the camera at him. He caught her eye, cringing, and she mimicked the expression before miming a pistol to her temple.

"Alright," Geoff said, clearing his throat, and she spun the camera towards him. "Level three! You guys can use pistols!"

"Finally," Ryan immediately grumbled.

Michael was the only one who looked up as the others all began laying bullets into their cars. "How about, uh, auto-rifles? Or no." he asked.

"Just the starting pistol."

Ray snorted, setting down his controller. "Well then, disregard me."

"That's why I asked."

"I already put like a clip and a half into it." Carefully Ray selected the right weapon, head nodding as he did a mental countdown to counteract his accidental cheating before jumping back in.

"Mine's on fire. Mine's super on fire!" Gavin called excitedly.

"Ah, yeah, I paused to ask him, so-"

"Eyyyyy... I blew up," Gavin said, sounding strangely upset about it.

"Alright Gavin!"

"I got run over!" he added, still staring at his screen.

Geoff came over to join him, clearly amused he hadn't noticed his success. "Gavin, did you blow it up?"

"Yeah."

"You uh, blew it up right before Ryan."

"Did I?!"

"Yeah. You beat me," Ryan answered.

"Did I win?!"

The situation finally dawned on Gavin as he glanced between Lindsay's phone and Geoff. He won so rarely that sometimes he forgot what the objective even was, and it seemed to be taking him a moment to process both that he'd won, and what he needed to do next.

"You won Go!, Gavin!" Geoff prompted.

He looked back to the camera, wide-eyed and confused. Lindsay jerked her head, gesturing toward the sticker board, and Gavin finally scrambled to his feet and hurried across the room.

"Yaaaaaay you did it, buddy!" Ryan called behind him sarcastically.

Without Jack there, everyone knew they were essentially shooting a filler episode; he was the only one anywhere close to winning, and everyone was sure he'd win the next time he played. When they'd thrown that argument at Geoff, he told them they'd just have to film five episodes all at once so that someone else could have a shot.

It had been a predictably unpopular answer, but Geoff was already looking over his idea list even as Gavin was still picking out a sticker.

Gavin turned back toward his seat to find Ray clapping and Michael cheering and hopping up from his chair. "Thank you, boi!" he shouted, meeting Gavin with a zealous hug before he had a chance to sit down.

"For what?" he tried to ask, hugging back with one arm and pulling free.

Michael grabbed for him again right as he landed in his chair, one hand on his far cheek and the other on the back of his head, and planted a big, wet, intentionally loud kiss on his temple.

"For saving us from that hell! I thought it was going to be the blimps all over again! Fuckin congrats!"

He was snapped out of saying anything further by Geoff's hysterical laughter, hoots of amusement leaving him covering his face. "Oh my god," he managed, then snorted and descended into laughter again.

"What's your problem?" Michael asked, blinking in Geoff's direction, then looking at the others for answers. Gavin was still wiping the side of his face with the heel of his hand. Ryan, who had only looked up from his computer when the laughter had erupted, shrugged with both his shoulders and his eyebrows. Ray on the other hand…

"Laying on the fanservice a little thicker than normal today? It's cool, I can dig it," he said, nodding slowly.

"Fanservice?" Michael asked, annoyed.

Geoff's laughter grew louder as he stumbled toward Michael, arms out like a zombie, and wrapped his head in a hug, only to pepper the side of his head with kisses.

Gavin let out a breathless squeak of distress from behind them, turning back around and pulling himself in toward his desk.

"Jesus christ Geoff, what the fuck?!" Michael demanded, managing to elbow him off.

Geoff was starting to cough from laughing so hard, and he grinned all the wider as he turned away from Michael and back towards the camera.

"Hey Lindsay, did you see-"

Lindsay was frozen solid, her posture rigid. What of her face wasn't still hidden behind her hands and her still-recording phone had gone pale.

Geoff was so caught off guard to find her not laughing - normally she was the first one to cheer the boys on when "Mavin" was invoked - that he fell completely silent himself.

He cleared his throat, casting a sideways look to Ryan, who just shrugged even harder. "Alright, alright," Geoff said, "cut those last two minutes out before you post that. I don't need to crash the site this week."

"Forget the site, that shit would crash Tumblr," Ray added helpfully.

Geoff snorted another laugh, glancing nervously at Lindsay before clearing his throat again. "Probably," he answered, not quite hiding a crack of his voice. "Okay, five minutes you assholes. I'm going to go take a piss and I expect all of you ready to film another episode by the time I get back."

Ray stood up, setting his headset on his desk. "That sounds like a good idea. My finger is killing me after that bulshit."

"Micoo," Gavin hissed as soon as the door clunked shut, grabbing at his sleeve. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'? You know!"

"No I don't! I don't know why this is such a big deal. I do stuff like that all the time!"

"No you don't!"

"Sure I do!"

Their whispered argument was more than loud enough for Ryan to hear, but he just gave a long, tight-lipped look to Lindsay, put back on his headphones, and turned back to his monitor.

"You don't do things like that  _ to him _ ," Lindsay pointed out, now standing over them both.

"Sure I do!" he insisted. "Just last week we won that round of Goldeneye and I did the exact same thing."

"Yes," Gavin said, pulling his feet up onto the chair as though to hide behind his knees, "but that was at  _ your house _ ."

"Friday wasn't. Friday was on set."

"Yeah, but you kissed my bloody helmet, now didn't you?"

What he'd done wrong was starting to register in Michael's mind. He reached up to pet Lindsay's arm - as much for his own comfort as hers - and started to respond again when the door flew back open.

"You two lovebirds okay over here, or you need some more time?" Ray asked as he strode across the room. "Just kidding, I already washed my hands, I'm not going back out there."

Michael looked up to glare at him, trying to decide if his joking was good-natured or not.

"I'm going to go get a coffee!" Gavin shouted, the moment Michael looked away from him, bolting from his seat.

"That's the last thing you need," Lindsay scolded, trying to catch him and fumbling her phone in the process.

"Then try and stop me!" he called, yanking the door shut behind him.

Michael's hand fell back on his lap as Lindsay slipped away from his touch, pocketing her phone and storming off after Gavin. There was a clamour as Gavin tried to hold the door shut against Lindsay yanking on it, but she prevailed with a victorious laugh and darted out the door, a squawk making it through before it drifted shut again.

Michael sighed, heavily.

Then he sputtered as Ray's hand clapped over his mouth and delivered an exaggerated kiss to his cheek.

"Gah! What the fuck!" Michael shouted, jerking free from Ray's grip. He pulled his beanie off his head and wiped at his cheek with it, as though to scrub off the slobber.

"What?" he asked faux innocently. "I thought that was the new Lad thing."

"That's not what-"

"Or is it the new Mavin thing?"

Michael found himself tongue-tied for a little too long. "That's not how things are and you know it," he said finally, wiping his face one last time before setting his hat down.

"Oh, I know. I'm just checking to see if  _ you _ know."

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

"I dunno," Ray shrugged, collapsing into his chair and leaning all the way back.

"...Wait, are you mad at me?"

"Nah. Nothing to be mad about. I'm happy for you," Ray said, twisting his chair back and forth slowly.

" _ Happy _ for me?" Michael demanded.

"Yeah" Ray nodded, smirking.

"Why?"

"Oh, just, y'know. Being open with your emotions and all that. That was a good congratulations you gave there. I seriously think we should adopt it as the new Lad thing."

"It's not a 'thing', Ray. And it's not  _ gonna _ be."

"Mmmkay."

Michael narrowed his eyes, trying to understand where Ray's sudden vinegar had come from. Ryan was the only other one still in the room, but he scooted closer to Ray anyway, lowering his voice. "What's your problem today?"

"Problem?" Ray asked.

"Yeah. As in why are you being a total asshole."

"I'm not. I'm just playing with you."

Michael's expression didn't change as he took a long, steady breath, weighing Ray's sincerity.

Ray stared back at him for a moment, then cracked up. "...Holy shit, you thought I was serious?"

Confusion crossed Michael's face before he sat back up, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah. Of course I didn't."

"You totally did."

Michael rolled his eyes, but before he could retort again, the door swung back open and Geoff came back in, trailed by Gavin and Lindsay. Lindsay had apparently been successful in stopping Gavin from getting a coffee, but instead he was carrying a pair of Heinekens, one of which was already open and half empty.

"Alright, assholes," Geoff began, flicking the On Air light back on after the door creaked shut. "Unfortunately, Jon is still 'borrowing' our buttmonkeys, so I hope you've closed GTA because we are  _ not _ filming a Let's Play right now."

"I didn't know that was even an option," Michael said, scowling.

"It wasn't. I just figured it would soften the blow when I told you all to open fucking Minecraft."

Ray snorted. "Don't we have like, two month's worth filmed already?"

"No shit. I just said we're not filming a Let's Play."

"Things to do?"

"Nope. We're keeping this  _ Go! _ train going."

"Oh-kay," Ray sighed, sliding his headphones back on and reaching for his Xbox to change discs.

"You guys have fun with that," Lindsay said, waving over her shoulder.

"Oh no you don't," Geoff scolded. "Someone's gotta film this shit."

"Yeah, and that someone can be someone who's not me. I'm way fucking behind on my editing as is, so I'll send someone else out to be your tripod."

"Oh yeah?! Well go to your room!" Geoff yelled after her, prompting her to slam the build room door way harder than was necessary.

Kdin emerged a good minute later, phone in hand and confusion painted on his face.

"Perfect," Geoff cheered, herding him toward the four players left in the room, "you're better at holding the camera still anyway.

The next Go! went decidedly faster - the challenge was far easier to complete. Still, a distinct level of snippiness hung in the air, above and beyond the normal banter of the team. Geoff chose to attribute it to how tedious the car-beating fiasco had been and tried to move past it by emphasizing that it was a new week.

Kdin's confusion only seemed to grow as he found himself standing between one Ray vs Michael snarkfest after another, occasionally shuffling away to hide by Ryan, only for him to shrug and have nothing worthwhile to say to the camera. Not a sentence made it out of Michael's mouth that wasn't sarcastic, even as the win was clearly about to fall in his lap.

Both Gavin and Ryan seemed to be doing their best to stay out of it.

"Hey, uh, what happened?" Kdin whispered to Geoff, camera still carefully trained on the others.

Geoff shrugged, lowering his mic. "Yeah, that's what I want to know. Have Lindsay show you the footage. I mean, if she hasn't already deleted it."

"Footage?"

"Trouble in paradise, I guess," he said, nodding toward the Lads.

Kdin made a half-interested humming sound, not really understanding Geoff's implication.

"Ray's just been really distant lately," Geoff added, brow furrowed. "I don't think the Lads have been hanging out outside of work as much since Tina moved in."

"That's not really any of our business though, right?"

He shrugged again. "Technically, no. But if it affects things here at the office, I'm gonna make it my business."

"Fair enough."

"Seriously though. Make sure Lindsay deletes that footage."

Kdin blinked. "Wait, what number does that make this Go?"

"Whatever it has to be."

"Wow, are we throwing out a whole episode?"

"What? Oh, god no. I mean, that episode was complete garbage, don't get me wrong, but like hell I'm coming up with  _ another _ idea. I just have no fucking clue what number we're on."

Kdin tried not to laugh, finally turning his attention back to his phone and heading to check in on the others again before settling in next to Michael and his certain victory.

Instead of celebratory cheers, he found Michael bitching his heart out, diminishing his victory by ranting that of  _ course _ he'd won, he had the easiest fucking letter.

Kdin tried to hide his grimace behind his hands as he darted the camera back and forth between Michael and Ray through the argument that ensued; it was impossible to tell if they were insulting each other or themselves, each insult too backwards and sarcastic to follow.

He missed filming Michael getting smacked upside the head by Geoff, who was sick of him stalling and trying to chase him toward the sticker board, and had to turn around to follow him.

Michael stomped across the room, grabbing the sticker package off the shelf and mulling it over for a second. He glanced back across the room at Ray, who had turned around to watch and was leaning back in his chair, hands folded on his stomach, staring right back at him.

Michael's expression changed dramatically the moment he looked at the camera, a smile spreading across his face as he peeled a sticker from the sheet. "I get another sticker… Oh!" he said, slapping it into his box on the board. "It's my boi!"

Unlike everyone else in the rotation, Gavin had chosen something besides himself off the Minecraft sticker sheet. That left his sticker still there, and Michael had now claimed it, placing it next to his on the board.

"Wooooo!"

He faltered for a second when his hand fell away to reveal Ray's sticker below them.

"-That's two. We should play without Jack more often," Michael said, motioning toward Jack's long row of stickers.

"It's true. If Jack would bother coming to work, he'd win," Geoff grumbled.

Michael stumbled as Gavin suddenly pushed past behind him, coming over to look at the sticker of him Michael had just placed. Michael rolled his eyes an intentionally hip-checked him into the door behind him, causing Gavin to grab onto the wall for support before he managed to get past him.

He stared at his sticker for a second, then up to Jack's section where the others were pointing. "Why is he all rainbow?" he asked, motioning to the variety of colors Jack's name had been written in.

Michael joked about it, smirking as he realized he was now tied for second - whatever that was worth with Jack one sticker from winning.

With the camera trained on the board, he was free to look away again, and he glanced over at Ryan, still intently focused on his game, and then to Ray.

Had he deliberately chosen the Gavin sticker as revenge for Ray's shittiness between the rounds? More or less.

Did he regret it now that Ray was staring at him - not even glaring at him, just staring, unblinking?

His breath tightened in his chest, arms suddenly feeling heavy as he met the stare and held it for several long seconds, feeling like Ray was slowly turning him to stone.

Yes. More than he cared to admit.

He barely registered when Kdin put the camera away and Geoff followed up "Let's stop" with "Alright, that's enough of that for today."

When he looked back from Geoff to Ray, Ray was no longer staring, and instead had turned back to his screen.

Somehow, he felt like that was worse.

* * *

 

"Hey, Meg, wait up!"

She spun around at the sound of Michael's voice, stopping just feet from the exit. "Michael! Hey, what's up?"

"Happy birthday, that's what's up," he said, pulling his pack off his shoulder, dropping it on the floor, and unzipping it in one motion. "Here you go," he added, grinning and handing her a card attached to a small box.

Meg took it, surprise crossing her face. "Aww, thank you!"

"No worries. Gavin reminded us your birthday was this week so Lindsay and I thought we should pick you up something."

Meg snorted, working the envelope open with her nail. "And by that you mean, you picked me up something and had Lindsay sign the card, right? Because earlier she said she didn't get me anything yet."

"Hey, I didn't say anything," Michael answered, winking. He slung his bag back over his shoulder and watched intently as she read the card, smiling when she started to chuckle at the caption. "You and Gav got any big plans tonight?"

"Tonight? Nah. I think neither of us really wanted to do anything on a weeknight. Besides, I'm past the numbers where birthdays matter."

"Don't say that! I have to turn the same number as you this year, and I refuse to not care about my birthday."

"See,  _ you _ can say that, because you still pass for 20 if you don't keep your hair trimmed."

"Ouch, that really hurts, Meg," he joked, pouting. "You hurted all my widdle feewings."

Meg just rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Well, hey. Whichever night you and Gavvers don't have plans, we should all go out and celebrate. I'll even bring my glasses so neither you or Lindsay has to drive."

"Yeah?"

"Of course not. But I'll pay for the Uber."

Meg rolled her eyes again, stepping forward to hug him tightly. "Well, it's the thought that counts."

Michael hugged back, then nodded to the box. "You gonna open it or not?"

She scoffed and held one hand over her heart, mock-offended. "Well maybe now I'm not going to, Mr. Bossy."

"Well maybe if you weren't so slow about shit I wouldn't  _ have _ to boss you around."

The door clunked open suddenly and they both turned to look as Gavin poked his head through, face lighting up at the sight of them. "Turney! There you are!" he cheered, popping inside and letting the door shut behind them. "I wondered what was taking you so long."

"Me so long? I didn't know you'd even gone outside already."

"Really? I thought I'd texted you."

"Oh, shit." Meg pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapping the screen on. "Whoops. I never turned my phone back off silent after my last report today."

"Typical," Gavin teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. When he stood straight again, he glanced sideways at Michael, then away again immediately. "What have you got there?" he asked, pointing at the package Meg was holding.

"Michael got me a birthday present," she explained.

" _ Lindsay _ and Michael got you a birthday present," Michael corrected.

"You keep telling yourself that. I'll bet Lindsay doesn't even know what's in it."

"As far as you know, neither do I. Hell, who knows if there even IS a present in there. It could just be an empty box. It's a goddamned mystery. And it's going to stay a mystery forever unless you hurry up and open it."

Meg was too busy laughing for opening a present to even be an option.

Michael wore a proud grin as he watched her laugh, laughing too, then hugging Meg as she fell forward against his chest, still giggling helplessly.

His laughter stopped immediately when he looked up to find Gavin staring at them stone-faced. He didn't look angry, only uncharacteristically serious, and once a few seconds passed without his expression faltering, Michael let go of Meg and cleared his throat. The sound seemed to snap Gavin out of it, though he shifted closer to Meg and rested his hand on the small of her back once she stepped away from Michael.

"So," Michael said, putting his hands in his pockets as casually as he could. "Meg said you guys don't have any plans for tonight."

"We don't," Gavin agreed. "We're going to dinner tomorrow, though."

"Awesome! Where to?"

They made small talk for a moment, discussing their plans for the weekend and saying goodbye to a few coworkers as they passed. The whole time Michael couldn't help but feel Gavin was avoiding eye contact with him and speaking just a bit too stiffly.

He'd fucked up worse than he thought he had, clearly. But he doubted Meg knew what had happened yet, so Michael doubted apologizing in front of her was a good plan. Especially not when she was either oblivious to the awkwardness between the two boys, or doing a damn good job of ignoring it.

"So, seriously," Michael said, bringing the conversation back around. "We need to go out and celebrate this weekend. All of us."

"All of who?"

"The four of us," Michael said, then suddenly felt another wave of nerves wash over him. "-And whoever else you want to invite, of course. It's your party."

"You sure about that?" Meg teased, poking him in the chest, "because it sounds to me like you're the one gunning for it."

"Fine, forget going out on the town and living it up. Let's just catch a fucking movie and play Mario Party all night."

"Now you're talking."

They both looked to Gavin, who shrugged. "It's your birthday. If that's what you want, I'm for it."

"Any suggestions?"

"I wouldn't mind the whole movie thing, if that's what you're asking."

"Great! What should we see?"

"I don't think there's much out right now," Meg admitted.

Michael had already pulled out his phone and held up a "wait a second" finger as he loaded up Fandango. "Yeah, slim pickin's… Linds and I saw Hot Tub Time Machine already, and I've never heard of most the rest of these."

"We could just find something on Netflix?" Gavin suggested.

"We  _ could _ , but I do kinda want to go out somewhere," Meg admitted.

"Oh, hey, Kingsman is still showing. You guys catch that yet?"

"Nah, haven't had a chance."

"That's that spy movie, right?"

"That's… sort of what the Kingsmen are, yes," Gavin agreed.

"Great," Michael said, "that means afterwards you can fill us in on all the inaccuracies over pizza."

Gavin stuck his tongue out but didn't get a chance to retort before Meg cut in. "Ugh, you have noooo idea how much pizza I had while I was in LA," she complained. "Let's get something else."

"Chinese?"

"Pho?"

"Sushi?"

"It's not delivery, it's Digiorno?"

"Satay?"

"Burrito truck?"

Meg made faces at each of their suggestions, considering each for only a moment before shifting her lips into a slightly different look of disapproval. Then her eyes lit up at Michael's final suggestion. "Oooo, let's have a taco bar," Meg said, tugging at Gavin's sleeve and looking up at him expectantly. "We haven't done that in ages."

He nodded in approval. "Hadn't even crossed my mind, it's been so long."

"Great," Michael said, "I'll bring the Razz-ber-itas then."

"Can't you pick up the variety pack instead?" Meg asked.

"Oooooor you could buy your own."

Meg put on the biggest pout she could, wibbling at him. "You'd make me buy my own drinks on m-my  _ birthday _ ?? Michael, you're such a meanie."

"Oh brother," Michael sighed. "Fine, you'll get your variety pack. But I call dibs on all the Razz then."

Meg grinned victoriously and snuggled into Gavin's side.

"So it's Kingsmen, tacos, Mario Party?" Meg reviewed.

"Sounds like it," Gavin agreed.

"Yep."

"Alright then. Sounds like a date!"

Meg stuck her hand out for a fist bump, and Michael grinned, meeting her halfway. "A date it is."

Gavin grumbled, rolling his eyes when they both looked at him, waiting.

Michael felt his neck prickle at Gavin's hesitance, even when he finally reached over to bump his fist to the sides of theirs and Meg started making firework noises as she pulled her hand away.

Their choice of phrasing, while accidental, was not lost on him, and he felt sure the slight strain in Gavin's smile was from that too.

He made a mental note to talk it out with him before the movie, if not before work the next day. He didn't need both of his best friends mad at him.

"Yeah," he heard Gavin say, "a date. Sounds good."


	17. The Days Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days apart never hurt anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys get this a bit ahead of schedule because I've had it done for a freaking month and can't bear to sit on it anymore. So, enjoy.
> 
> As always, if the one block of text messages in this stops displaying, let me know so I can re-upload it.
> 
> Also when I started this chapter ~~MONTHS ago, you have NO idea how out-of-order I've been writing this shit because THANK YOU BRAIN for jumping around~~ I was confused about a couple things and was accidentally under the impression Meg's family was mostly in LA. I tried to clean up and fix those comments but I can't promise I didn't miss something.

**Saturday Afternoon, five days prior**

  
  


It was way too late in the afternoon for Lindsay to be flopping back down in bed. She had no excuse for it, either; she'd gotten enough sleep, whatever hangover she'd had was gone by the time she and Meg had left Denny's two hours prior, and all she'd done today was shower, drive Meg to the airport, and walk Penny around the block.

But she was about to be alone at Meg's house for two nights, and that idea had her exhausted.

Normally if both Meg and Gavin were going to be gone for more than a day, they hired a pet sitter or left Penny at Meg's mom's and Smee to fend for himself. Lindsay had volunteered for a few of the single day occasions in the past, but had never stayed there overnight on her own before. This time, with Michael gone too, she saw no reason not to just haul her editing laptop over and hold down the fort on her own. Of course she'd swung by her own apartment long enough to pick up another change of clothes the night before, but with no pets and with two coworkers' apartments in view of their front door Lindsay wasn't afraid of leaving the place alone for the weekend.

So it wasn't being away from home that had her tired.

Lindsay closed her eyes, reaching for the edge of the bed and kneading the corner in her fingers.

She had full permission to sleep in Meg and Gavin's bed for the next two nights. She'd been encouraged to do so, in fact, with a note that Penny and Smee were both awful about locking themselves into rooms and it was best she stay in the room they'd want to sleep in anyway.

She'd managed about fifteen minutes on the bed alone, curled up under the blankets in an attempt to go back to sleep, before she'd had to get up and retreat to the guest room.

And now she was clinging to the edge of it because it was so, so much more familiar than theirs. Here she was sleeping on the right side of the bed, the same one she did at home, and she knew where Michael belonged on the bed. In their room she'd somehow wound up on Gavin's side of the bed, which was the other side of the bed, and which she also intrinsically knew was Gavin's, and even if she rolled to the other side - _it was just the two of them, why did they need such a huge bed?_ she asked herself for the umpteenth time - that was Meg's, and somehow it was even more wrong to be there even if it let her lay her arm off the side the way she liked.

Plus it smelled like Meg there, and that had winded Lindsay in a way she wasn't prepared for.

She recognized Meg's smell now. Not her shampoo or her body wash, though she knew those and they were in there, but actually Meg. And it made her miss her, even though it had been mere hours.

They'd been too drunk to try anything the night before. They both knew that well enough that neither even tried, even before Meg had hit that level of drunk where she could barely keep her eyes open, and when she could she was endlessly goofy. Yes, there'd been a few kisses exchanged when they climbed into bed, but they'd been followed by joking shoves and giggled "you're too drunk, get off me"s before they'd finally curled up to sleep, Meg using Lindsay's chest for a pillow.

She'd woken up with her arms wrapped around Meg from behind, her face buried in her hair, and that feeling had convinced her to shut her eyes again despite the dehydrated throbbing in the back of her head.

They'd both been too hungover and in too much of a rush to try anything that morning. Lindsay had - mostly facetiously - offered to shower with her to save time, then left the room laughing when Meg had agreed to, not wanting to make a fool of herself by asking if she was joking or not.

She wasn't sure how to feel anymore.

Part of her was still, put bluntly, desperately horny. Three days without sex? Sure, she did that plenty. Three days without an orgasm? Only if she was sick, and even then she'd usually find the energy. All their makeouts had only made it worse, leaving her on edge without fruition repeatedly, with no opportunity to solve things on her own, to the point she'd been horribly distracted for part of Friday afternoon.

(Okay, so maybe her run home "for clothes" had also been for something she could ease off some of the problem with, but she'd gotten clothes too, alright?)

With a frustrated groan, Lindsay rolled herself over and stretched out, getting as comfortable as she could with how tense all her muscles were. Even her pillows got shoved to the side in an effort to create a flat surface to stretch out on. Five seconds of wrestling with her fly later, she crammed her hand unceremoniously down her pants.

"Ah, _fuck!_ "

Even the slightest brush of her clit left her cursing.

Naturally, that meant she pressed down on it with two fingers, rubbing herself for all she was worth.

The one upside to being left home alone at her friends' house was she was truly alone for once in her life. In their own apartment she was seldom without Michael, and when she was, the wall separating their bedroom from their neighbors' was only feet away, keeping Lindsay just a hair self-conscious about how loud she shouted when she fucked herself or Michael. The knowledge the nearest neighbor was a yard away was liberating in a way she hadn't expected; it left her intentionally moaning as loud as she could muster, as though she was trying to turn herself hoarse.

For the last two days she'd been touched everywhere she could imagine above the belt and been kissed so many times she felt like she could measure Meg's mouth to the millimeter by the memory of her lips on her body.

But this was the first time since falling asleep Wednesday night that she'd gotten contact where it really counted.

She rubbed as fast as her fingers could manage, gritting her teeth and balling the covers in her fist to push past the slight pain oversensitivity had sentenced her to. At this rate, she'd only take a couple minutes to orgasm, and after two or three of those she could move back to their bed or at least fall asleep without-

Meg's smirking face, nose two inches from hers, greeted her memory when she closed her eyes, her weight baring down on Lindsay's waist.

"Shit. Shit, no," Lindsay called, feeling her fingers slow at the image and her hips hesitate from the roll they'd fallen into.

Michael, she'd imagine Michael, she'd make him be the one kissing her instead, let him finger her, let his dick rub hard to her thigh, eager to push inside of her at her word-

Yes, that was working, that was countering the distraction. Her pussy clenched desperately, wanting something inside of her. She thought of using her other hand, but she couldn't be bothered to let go of the covers. Instead she had thought-Michael stop fingering her so her brain would stop expecting touches there, instead having his middle finger circle her clit and-

She could see Meg again, slid all the way down her body, lips following the arch where her ribs faded into stomach and then up into hips, pressing one soft kiss at a time. Her hand was resting on Lindsay's other thigh, staying mindfully out of the way of Michael's experienced fingers.

Thought-Meg smiled. Real Lindsay forgot how to move her hands. Two desperate bucks of her hips trying to seek out attention later, she forgot how to move, period.

Even her lungs stopped working, breath held as she squeezed any muscle she could to try and convince herself to keep moving.

She gasped for air, shoving herself over so she was face down in the pillows, screaming frustrated profanities into them.

"Shit! Fuck! Fucking! No, no, no! Fucking why!"

She lay there fuming for several long minutes, shaking periodically as the mix of sex and anger hormones levelled out and one finally won over the other, then dragged the loser with it so effectively she couldn't really be sure which one _had_ won.

Lindsay stormed back into the master bedroom, unzipped her bag as fast as possible, and threw her laptop and the toy she'd brought on the bed before flopping defiantly beside them.

She clicked impatiently as she waited for the computer to wake up, shoving her pants and underwear clean off in the meantime. The password was entered, and her shirt found its way to the floor as well.

She didn't even bother opening an incognito browsing window before charging straight to one of the many pornographic equivalents of YouTube the internet had to offer, typing in a few choice keywords and opening some of them in new tabs. She was going straight for the big guns, too - there was no playing around with run of the mill vanilla videos that would take a while to get her riled up. Instead she'd searched for the kinks she knew would get her off in no time. She needed relief and she needed it now.

The only caveat was that she carefully chose only heterosexual videos; she wasn't willing to risk another reminder of Meg, even if she was now jilling off rather enthusiastically atop their duvet.

With her new inspiration on the screen, it took Lindsay only a few cuss-filled moments to fuck her first orgasm out of herself with the dildo she'd brought from home. She paused to catch her breath and let the dull tingling fade out before pushing immediately for another, her toy not even leaving her body along the way.

The video ended before she'd caught her breath from the second. She rolled onto her side, gasping for air and letting the very slick length of silicon slip out from her and rest between her thighs while she contemplated her next move.

Michael was busy. She couldn't call him. It wasn't even that he'd have to go find privacy, it was that he likely wouldn't even answer - who knew what kind of weird schedule he was trapped on for filming?

But she knew him well enough to try and simulate the next best thing.

She took her third orgasm with a pillow shoved under her hips and her knees folded to her chest, her computer long since forgotten and Michael's voice running through her mind, imagined and remembered taunts egging her along.

For a good minute she lay there, not frozen but definitely spent bordering on sore, head to the side as she sought out oxygen, body still curled from the intensity of sensation she'd just pushed herself through.

She was half asleep before she managed to uncurl, stretching out on her side and fumbling around until she found a pillow to pull under her head.

But she was finally free of the tension that had been plaguing her for days. Her back was finally relaxing, her spine easing into a less guarded state.

Who gave a fuck if it was five in the afternoon. She'd sleep now, wake up when Penny got whiny about dinner, and if she didn't still feel satiated then, she'd text Michael and make him call her before bed that night. Too bad it was only two more nights; if she was this bad, who knew how horny Michael was? She was sure the others wouldn't give him any time to masturbate, and even if they did, he was going to need touching everywhere else too.

...Ah, who was she kidding. Michael hadn't had a super sweet, super hot best friend humping him the whole time they were apart. He was probably fine, and any passing distractions he'd probably fapped away in his morning showers. Lucky asshole.

God, she missed him.

Lindsay buried her face into the pillow and sighed deeply, wrapping up more blanket to snuggle into. She was far too overheated to cover up just yet, but a bundle of cloth made a decent substitute for an arm to cling to.

The pillow still smelled like Meg, but she could deal with that, now. The first memory it called was no longer the barely contained desire to pin Meg down and kiss her all over. Instead it was flashes of happier, less tense times over the previous months; hugging Meg around the middle while they fended off Barb's attack on their drink, cuddling on the couch with the boys trapped beneath her and Meg cradled on her chest while she ran her fingers gently through her hair, carrying her carefully up the steps so neither she or Gavin had to wake her, watching her flash a sleepy smile and ask her to come closer, to sleep there, legs and arms tangled together...

Yeah, that was a sweet memory to fall asleep to. Meg's hand held loosely in her shirt, her face inches away, then bowed so their foreheads were touching. Meg sighing softly, contently, at having Lindsay there with her - at finally getting some form of affection from her again after she'd avoided her for days, naively believing Michael's absence meant she couldn't kiss her.

Memory drifted into imagination as Lindsay pictured the kiss she should have given her then, if only she hadn't been so stubborn about things. Meg's lips were already always so soft, but when she was sleepy and relaxed they were more so, and it would be hard to just give her one kiss because of that. A second and even a third couldn't hurt, their faces still pressed so close they were sharing a pillow. And despite how close to sleep Meg had been before, her eyes fluttering open so she could smile at Lindsay, and Lindsay cursing how dark the room was since she so seldom got to see Meg's eyes without her glasses in the way.

Then fingers threaded into hair - _they should have, why hadn't they_ \- and the imagined kisses grew deeper, Lindsay's arm covering her face in reality so she had some sort of pressure against her lips, though she didn't try to mimic the actual kisses. Their fingers would be so gentle on each other's necks and backs. Their light hold on each other's arms became a loose but close embrace as she scooted forward until she felt their stomachs touch and her arm wrapped around Meg without stretching.

Lindsay felt her chest start to shudder with each breath as she imagined trailing her fingers down her friend's side, gliding them across her waist repeatedly, listening to Meg giggle against her lips. She pecked an approving kiss on Lindsay's nose, then kissed at the corner of her mouth again, sighing happily.

So Lindsay imagined more still, as her hand sunk instinctively between her own legs. She pictured gentle kisses on cheeks and lips, petite fingers tangling with the sides of her nightshirt, soft gasps against her face as her fingers worked their way lower and lower on Meg.

Then she imagined her fingertips reaching the wet heat of Meg's slit and could almost feel her smile against her lips, smiled back against Meg's - no, against her arm - no, against Meg's lips, Meg's forehead tilting forward to press harder against hers for an instant.

She heard one word whispered in her head: " _Please._ "

Lindsay whimpered, hips bucking at the idea. She tried to translate what she was doing to herself into a different position of her wrist, imagining her own folds were Meg's, and eventually, imagining the fingers touching her were Meg's as well. She moved almost frustratingly slowly at first, getting a feel for things, toying to see how she'd react. She tried to rub herself in unfamiliar ways, imagining adjusting to someone new touching her for the first time in years, and her hips jerked each time she did something good, each gasp louder than the previous one.

She imagined sinking her fingers into Meg.

She imagined how Meg's face would look, mild surprise giving way to a smile and a gentle bite of her lower lip.

She imagined Meg kissing her again, soft but prolonged, and falling into a string of hushed moans.

Lindsay pushed herself onto her back as she crested toward release, trying to get better purchase on her soaked clit to bring herself over the edge…

Her stomach tightened unexpectedly as she snapped back to reality, eyes wide open and breathing panicked. Her fingers slipped, and while it still felt good, it felt distant, as though behind pins and needles, and in the seconds it took her to get her bearings and try to bring out that climax she'd been so, so close to, the wave of confusion washed through her and set her frustratingly far back.

She bit her tongue, hissed, and slammed the back of her head against her pillow a few times before flipping upside down violently and screaming a loud " _FUCK!"_ into the mattress.

She heard a jingle from the other side of the room as her outburst woke up Penny and sent her scurrying out of the room.

Lindsay sighed, alternating between squeezing her hands into fists so tight her thumbs hurt and stretching them out so wide the webbing before her pinkies hurt.

Why. She'd been so close. She'd been so _fucking close_. What had snapped her out of it this time? What was she so fucking afraid of? It obviously wasn't Meg herself - that had knocked her out of her fantasies earlier, but this time Meg had been the whole fantasy. Everything had been so sweet and gentle, even the rougher squeezes along the way accompanied by playful smiles. She'd gotten so far - far enough that now, discomfort was starting to set in at how easily every image had come to mind - so why had her brain suddenly cut her off literal seconds before orgasm?

She closed her eyes tighter, breathing deep through her nose until the anger started to fade.

Maybe the question wasn't why she'd gotten knocked out of her fantasy again, but why it had worked for as long as it had?

She rolled back over, sucking in a long breath of fresh air and letting it out slowly.

Her hand rested at her side, and as she stared at the ceiling, she imagined twining her fingers into Meg's and feeling her softly cuddle into her side as she'd done so many times the last few days.

A smile twitched across her face at the feeling.

In the next instant, the urge to cry hit her, crushing her chest like a whole swimming pool had just poured over her from the ceiling.

She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes as tight as she could, clutching her left hand to her heart with her right, palm pressed tightly to her ring, and fighting with the stinging chill of guilt suddenly surging through her.

Lindsay was starting to suspect the problem was less what she didn't feel for Meg, and more what she _did_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Sunday Morning, four days prior**

  
  


Like so many mornings in recent memory, the first thing Michael was aware of upon waking was how fucking bright the lights seemed through the window. Not that he was surprised the hotel curtains did absolutely shit for blocking out the mid-morning sun; they were designed to keep people from peeping into the rooms, not out of them, and encouraging people to wake up before checkout time was an obvious priority.

The second thing he was aware of was a loud banging on his door. He winced and blinked, rolling onto his back and pulling at his face to stretch the sleep out of his eyes.

"Just a minute!" he hollered at whoever was knocking. (Probably Gavin.)

Oh right, Gavin. Where was he? Michael looked to the other side of the bed and saw the blanket was pulled back and Gavin was gone. He'd probably left earlier in the morning and was back now because he'd forgotten his shoes or something equally moronic. Just as well; it saved Michael from having to talk about any of the stuff he was rapidly remembering had happened the night before, despite all logic and sobriety to the contrary.

"Wake up already, asshole!" came Burnie's charming greeting, shouted from the hallway, followed by more knocking.

Great. Not Gavin. Of course. That would have been too much to ask, wouldn't it?

"Jesus christ boss, I said give me a second!" Michael yelled back, pushing himself upright and glaring toward the door.

He was suddenly very aware of a figure standing before the narrow passage out of the room, currently hiking his pants back up and zipping them.

"Don't worry boi, I've got it."

Michael barely managed to process that Gavin was still in his room before he started traipsing toward the door.

"Gavin, _no!_ " he hissed, trying to whisper and shout at the same time - he needed to be loud enough to get Gavin's attention, but not so loud for Burnie to hear him.

"What?" he asked, spinning back around and blinking, dazed.

Michael scrambled to his feet and tried to charge toward him, only to immediately limp as a charlie horse set in. He winced, willing his calves to cooperate - he knew he'd forced them to support him at an awkward angle for far too long the night before, but he'd forgotten about the inevitable cramping till he actually put weight on them.

" _Don't you dare open that door!_ " he snapped, still keeping his voice down.

" _Why are we whispering?_ " Gavin asked in the same tone.

" _Because this is_ _ **my**_ _fucking room, dipshit. No one needs to know you're in here._ "

"Oh come on. Michael, we're already an hour late to wardrobe. It's the last fucking day! Hurry your ass up!" Burnie shouted.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Had he been so distracted last night that he'd forgotten to set an alarm?

"Just a fucking second, okay? Unless you really want me answering the door with my dick hanging out."

"Will having to see your bare ass get you out here faster?"

"That's sexual harrassment right there. I'm gonna tell HR!"

"Like she'll give a shit!"

"Christ," Gavin muttered out the side of his mouth.

" _Would you fucking hide already?_ " Michael hissed at him, finally stumbling in between him and the door.

" _What? Where?!_ "

" _I don't know! The bathroom or something. Just… fuck, just get in there,_ " he instructed, shoving Gavin toward the bathroom and pulling the door shut.

"Don't make me go get a key card, Michael. You know these rooms are in the company's name. I can get one."

Michael threw the door open just in time for the sound of the latch to cover the sound of Gavin turning on the lights - and thus, the fan - in the bathroom. At least, Michael hoped it covered it, and gave a strained grin to express that hope.

"Jesus christ. Did you really just wake up?" Burnie asked, looking Michael up and down.

Michael glanced down at the tank top and boxers he was still clad in and shrugged. "Well, yeah. Duh. It's still fucking early."

"No it's not," Burnie said. "It's damn near 2:30."

"It what?!" Michael asked, spinning around. He stumbled backwards until he could see the clock radio on the nightstand, dropping the door in the process, which Burnie pushed back open just as he caught sight of the clock. "No it's fucking not. It's not even ten. We haven't even been back for a whole eight hours yet."

"Made you look," Burnie chuckled.

"Jesus. Did you really wake me up just to prank me?"

"Nah. I was going to offer to take you guys to brunch since we're not due on set till one. But if you need more beauty sleep, by all means, go get some more."

"Please, boss. I don't need beauty sleep. I'm a work of art every waking moment."

"Ha. You've never seen yourself on a Monday after a party at Geoff's, have you?"

"Have you?"

"Not for a few years, no."

"And that's a damn shame," Michael said, leaning against the wall.

"So does that mean you want to eat or not?"

"I am definitely not turning down food."

"Excellent. I'll be back for you in fifteen minutes, then."

"Can you make it thirty? I'm sure my hair looks like shit."

"If you're a minute over twenty I'm making you pay for everyone."

"Tch, fine. Twenty it is."

"Great. That should give me plenty of time to find Gavin."

Michael tried not to betray any emotion in his face. "Find him?"

"Yeah, he's not in his room."

"You sure you just didn't knock hard enough?"

Burnie grimaced and sighed through his teeth. "I'm sure I'm sure. I even got housekeeping to open up his room. Not only is Gavin missing, but all but one of his pillows are, too. Housekeeping told me if they don't turn up, they're charging the missing pillows to the company card, so if you see him tell him he better put those fucking things back before he owes me $320."

"Those are some expensive pillows! What's that, $80 a piece?"

"The hotel's only charging me $40, but I'm charging him double for embarrassing me in the process."

Michael thought for a moment, then nodded appreciatively. "That seems fair."

He tried not to look behind him or mentally count to see if that meant there were a total of nine now scattered around his room. Had Gavin really only bothered to take one back to his own? They were so fluffy that Michael needed at least two to sleep comfortably.

"You feeling okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, why?"

"I dunno, you're just making weird faces. Plus you left the fan on in the bathroom."

"Ohhh, yeah, that. Turns out I should definitely not eat pizza after three in the morning. Too much cheese, you know? Smells awful in there."

"That's wonderful information, Michael. Thank you for sharing."

"Hey, you're the one who asked if I was okay."

"That I did," Burnie conceded.

They both nodded at each other momentarily, both obviously waiting for the other to end their encounter. Michael desperately wanted Burnie to leave so he could get rid of Gavin and sort out the room, but didn't want to be the one to just shut the door in his boss's face.

"Twenty minutes, right?" Michael asked finally, trying to politely dismiss him.

"You've got eighteen now, you just wasted two gawking at me."

"Fuck, are you serious?"

"Yes. So go get some fucking clothes on."

"Alright, alright, geez!" Michael snapped.

Burnie reached out to ruffle his already messy hair. Michael swatted his hand away, but grinned at the attention anyway.

"Remember," Burnie said, grabbing the door handle. "Gavin. Pillows. Dead."

"Yes _sir_ ," he agreed, giving a quick salute as Burnie slowly closed the door.

As soon as the latch clunked shut, Michael breathed a huge sigh of relief, sinking to the floor and starting to massage his sore legs.

The bathroom door creaked open a few seconds later. " _Can I come out yet?_ " Gavin asked, voice still hushed.

"Fucking- yes, you can come out," Michael sighed, reaching above him to be sure the lock was latched.

The door swung open and the light turned off before Gavin crawled out of the room, crouching awkwardly in front of Michael so they were still at eye level.

"G'morning, Michael," he offered.

Michael chuckled, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the door. "Good morning, Gavin."

Gavin rocked in place in silence for a moment, and Michael braced himself for the inevitable no homo dance over the previous night to begin.

"...You really think he'll charge me double?"

A simultaneous wave of frustration and relief washed over Michael so quickly he almost felt like crying. Instead he gave a strained laugh and smile. "I think he'll charge you jack squat because I think as soon as he's out of the hallway we're taking the rest of your pillows back to your room."

"...Fair play."

Michael just shook his head, standing up with the doorknob as a handhold. He offered Gavin a hand up, which he accepted graciously, though the speed he hopped to his feet told Michael he hadn't actually needed the help.

And yet Gavin's hand stayed wrapped around his wrist for much longer than was necessary.

When he finally let go (or, really, after Michael realized that maybe if he let go first Gavin would follow suit), he watched Gavin's eyes drop to their hands for a split second, then meet his gaze again, folding his lips to wet them.

One corner of his mouth twitched into a grin, causing Michael to quickly look back up. (He hadn't been looking at Gavin's lips - it had just been a glance because he'd seen movement, that was all.)

"What?" he asked when Gavin's grin didn't fade.

He didn't want Gavin to answer, because there was no doubt in his mind that some quip about the night before was about to come out of his mouth. (Not at all because he was suddenly very, very aware of how close the wall behind Gavin was, and of how very hot his cheeks had become, like Gavin's eyes were heat rays trying to burn his face.)

"Just looking at you," he said, laughing.

"W-what? Why?" Michael managed, back going rigid.

"Your hair is just all…" He reached for the top of Michael's head, making silly sound effects as he plucked at a few locks, pulling them playfully in the errant directions they were already pointing. "Bloop, bloop! You look _ridiculous_ ," he laughed.

Michael grimaced, (it was so, so hard not to just smile at him) swatting his hand away and ducking when he immediately reached for his hair again. "Yeah, sure, because you rolled out of bed already looking perfect," he taunted, sidestepping Gavin's hand a second time.

"Awww, you mean that? Thank you, boi," he answered, grinning wider.

He opened his mouth to correct him but couldn't think of anything that didn't either sound meaner than he intended or worse than what he'd already said.

"Okay, look," Michael said instead, backing up into the room, "by now we probably don't even have ten minutes before Burnie's making one of us buy him expensive-ass hotel restaurant food. So quit fucking around, put your shoes on, and take your dumb pillows back to your room."

A pout passed across Gavin's face for a split second before he shrugged. "What about you, then?" he asked, scooping up his shoes and plopping on the side of the bed to put them back on.

"I am going to find a hat to cover up this wreck until I get to makeup this afternoon," Michael explained, pointing to his hair with one hand while he rifled through his suitcase with the other, "and then I'm getting some fucking clothes on and getting downstairs far enough ahead of you to have some plausible deniability left on whether or not I've seen you this morning."

Gavin clicked his tongue like he was trying to decide if that sounded like a good plan or not. In the end he shrugged, grabbed his phone from the night stand to put it in his pocket, and started gathering up pillows, starting with the ones on the floor.

"And for christ's sake, Gavin," Michael called as Gavin struggled to open the front door with his arms so laden, "check to make sure the coast is clear before you just go running out there?"

"Oh please," he countered, half-dropping a pillow as he got the door open. "What's the worst that could happen?"

He turned around as he asked the question, pushing the door open with his foot and shuffling out backwards.

(To Michael's relief, "the worst" turned out to only be Gavin squawking in distress when the door shut on one of the pillows.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Lindsay quietly moved Smee's litter box and a water bowl into the guest bedroom and intentionally locked both pets in with her.

Sunday night was no different.

She forgot to move them back before she and Michael dropped Gavin off at home on Monday, but thankfully, Gavin never noticed, or at least never asked her why, either item had been moved.

 

* * *

 

**Wednesday Night, one day prior**

  
  


"Griffon? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course. What's up?"

Meg shifted nervously from foot to foot, picking at the nail polish of one thumb with her other. "I- I don't know if you're the best person to talk to about this but… I don't know who else to even try. I tried bringing it up to one of my friends in LA over the weekend weekend but… she just got all 'oh, missing the single life already?' on me, when that's not what it is at all, I mean I love Gavin and I can't imagine life without him anymore, like I thought someone from California of all places might understand, but of course-"

"You're rambling," Griffon said, cutting her off with a gentle touch to her shoulder. "Sit down. Take your time."

Meg glanced at the seat, pulling at her lip with her teeth.

"Do you need a drink to make talking about it easier?"

"Yes," Meg said quickly. Then, right as Griffon turned toward the kitchen, she reached out toward her. "Wait, no. I don't- that's half the problem. I can't… I'm tired of taking the easy way out."

Griffon gave her a tired smile, holding out her arms to Meg who all but fell against her chest, clinging around her waist tightly. She wrapped her in a warm hug, stroking Meg's hair as she sighed heavily into her shoulder, back rigid as she struggled not to shake.

"How about just something warm, then? A hot cocoa?"

"Yes, please," Meg said, voice muffled since her face was still buried against Griffon.

"Should I put in a shot of Kahlua for good measure?" she offered.

Meg sighed again, then turned her head so she was looking off into the distance. "Yeah. But just one."

"Alright," Griffon agreed, placing a motherly kiss on the top of her head before letting go. "You grab a blanket and go sit on the guest bed, we can have girl talk in there, okay?"

Meg smiled, weak but genuine. "Okay."

It wasn't hard to sneak past the boys; Geoff and Gavin were immersed in some arcade style game they were testing for a Let's Play, and neither had said a word to her or Griffon except to offer them a turn since they'd gotten back to the Ramseys' after dinner. Gavin did seem to notice as she passed by toward the hall, and flashed her a grin, which she returned, only for him to suddenly trill when the momentary distraction cost him points.

Meg smiled to herself, musing about how much fun he was as she made her way to the room as instructed. She climbed onto the bed and curled up cross legged on it, grabbing a pillow to snuggle, then pulled out her phone to play with while she waited.

The smile faded and she winced as she spotted the new text notification she'd been ignoring for the past two hours and finally opened it.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=5n9pxt)

Meg sighed, collapsing forward onto the pillow until her elbows were on her knees and she felt she might topple forward if she leaned any further. All but the first message had arrived after she'd gotten back to Austin, but even before leaving LA she'd still decided she needed a few hours, or maybe even days, to mull things over before seeing Lindsay again. Griffon had texted her the night before asking if she had a ride home from the airport and if she'd want to go get dinner when she got home, and she'd gladly accepted.

Lindsay had promised to pick her up back when she'd dropped her off on Saturday. At the time she'd happily asked her to, but over the last few days, weird nerves had set in.

She heard Griffon's footsteps approaching and straightened up a little, trying to untangle her thoughts enough to share them with her surrogate mom.

Griffon shut the door behind her and carefully stepped up onto the bed with impressive balance, crouching to hand Meg one of the mugs she had in hand before sitting down all the way. Meg watched as Griffon pushed her bangs back off her face and then took a long draw of her cocoa before looking down at her own, smiling when she noticed the spiral of whipped cream on the top.

"Thanks," she said softly, taking a sip.

Then she sighed, holding the mug tight in both hands and staring off to the side, studying a carving in the corner opposite the door like she hadn't seen it a hundred times before.

"Let me guess," Griffon said, leaning forward to mimic Meg's posture. "After that talk we had, you lot actually did have sex and now everything is super awkward."

Meg cringed. Hard.

"...Oh my god, I'm sorry," Griffon said quickly, nearly spilling her cocoa as she raised her hand defensively. "That was supposed to be a joke, I didn't think-"

Meg cut her off quickly. "No, we didn't, don't worry, you didn't-" She took a deep breath and let it out through her teeth, closing her eyes tightly. "That's not what happened. At all. We still haven't- I mean, not that we were going to to begin with, but-"

Meg growled in frustration, leaning half her face into one hand.

"But?" Griffon prompted softly.

"I don't know."

Griffon let a moment of silence pass between them before she reached out and gently touched the hand Meg was still holding her cup with.

"If anything I said last week made things uncomfortable between you four, I'm sorry. I was trying to be helpful, but tough love isn't always the best option."

Meg shook her head, slowly raising it back off her hand. "No. It's not your fault. You definitely made the subject come up sooner than I think any of us intended but…" she looked up quietly, until her eyes were just visible past the top rim of her glasses. "It needed to come up. None of us really know how to talk about any of this, and I don't think we would have ever bothered. We're _still_ not bothering. I'm sure I'm going to have to be the one to actually say it and I just…"

She stared back down at her cup for several seconds, then let out a deep enough sigh that the air made her whipped cream drift around the cup.

"I don't know if they're ready. I don't know if _we're_ ready," she corrected, tensing her shoulders and lowering her head. "I don't know if they'll ever be, and I feel awful for being frustrated about it."

"What do you want to say to them?"

The mug shook in Meg's hands. "I… I don't know."

Griffon leaned down just a little further, trying to look her in the eyes again. "Are you sure?"

Meg's next breath was harsh, like it wanted to be a sob but she wouldn't let it.

"Lindsay and I were alone most of the weekend… She's so much fun, Griffon. She's so wonderful."

Griffon nodded in agreement, slowly stroking the back of Meg's wrist to encourage her to continue.

"But normally if she's over, then Michael is there too, or Gavin, or at least Barb or someone else."

"And she wasn't who you thought she'd be alone?"

Meg shook her head, slowly raising her cup to take another sip, doing a poor job of disguising the continued shake of her hands on the way back down.

"She was exactly who I thought she was. Better, even."

Griffon managed a bittersweet smile at the wistfulness in Meg's voice.

"We've never gotten to talk that freely before. We've never gotten to…"

She trailed off, one hand resting on her own thigh and squeezing it softly as she drifted into the memory of being atop Lindsay that Friday morning.

"I think I scared her, Griffon. I think I came on too strong. I know she says she's talked it out with Michael, that he's fine with it-" she looked up for a split second, her eyes filled with alarm that said _I'm telling you secrets, please keep them_ , "-but… I don't know how to talk it out with her. Every time I've gotten into bed with someone before we just… did it."

"To be fair, it's probably been a long time since you were last with someone who didn't know what they were doing."

Meg looked up, brow furrowed. "But Lindsay isn't-"

_"I only know what I'm doing in theory"_

Whatever words to the contrary she was going to say faded from her mind and were replaced by a dozen competing variations of "bisexual" and "into girls".

Meg swallowed hard and then whispered, voice nearly gone, "Oh."

Griffon covered her hands again, if only to keep her from spilling her drink on the bed.

"You know you're lucky Barb got to Gavin first, I'm sure it would have taken a lot of patience to teach him."

Meg managed a chuckle at that. "I'm sure Geoff was way harder."

"You kidding me? I'm still training him."

"Yeah, but teaching and training are two different things," she said, smirking.

Griffon rolled her eyes but winked all the same.

Meg took another sip of her drink, hands steadier now that the joke had lightened the mood. "I'm not afraid to teach her, if she's not afraid to learn," she said softly, feeling her cheeks grow as warm as her cocoa.

"Tell her that, not me."

"I know," Meg sighed, "I just don't know how to tell her."

"Well… maybe start by figuring out what you want from her exactly?"

Meg licked her lips, looking off to the side as she started considering the question, her eyes slowly widening and the blush creeping further across her face. "Well. I mean."

"The proverbial bi boredom, then? One side's fulfilled but you're craving the other?"

"That's… I won't say that's not part of it. That's why… God, I need to just start at the beginning."

She spent the next few minutes explaining that first night back in November to Griffon, finishing her cocoa along the way and leaving the empty mug on the nightstand beside the bed. Once her own mug was gone, Griffon shuffled around to wrap her arm around Meg's shoulders, rubbing her arm gently to encourage her while she finally filled someone in for the first time as to how this had all begun.

"So when Lindsay first said she wanted to do it again - god, Griffon, I've never been so scared. I felt myself swoon and I couldn't understand it. I still can't understand it. It's not the same way I'm drawn to Gavin, but she just… she's such a force of nature. I can't look away, I don't _want_ to look away."

"So you think you might want more than a hookup?"

Meg let out an unsteady breath through her teeth, giving a half nod. "Maybe? I feel like I can't say for sure. I don't know, it just… It feels like something I can't take back if I do say it, even if she's not who I say it to."

"In other words, you already know, but know there's too much at risk to admit it."

Her shoulders slumped. Griffon squeezed her into her side, and Meg let her head rest onto her shoulder.

"It's okay if you don't-"

"I don't know if I love her," Meg cut in. "But… I think I want to."

Griffon's chin rested atop her head and she sighed, wrapping her other arm around her so her hands clasped on Meg's far shoulder. She rocked back and forth gently, unsure of what more to say to help.

"I'm falling for her whether I like it or not," Meg admitted quietly.

"It doesn't sound like there's a whole lot of 'or not' involved," Griffon pointed out.

Meg curled up tighter, letting herself hide in Griffon's embrace rather than speak and dig the hole she was in even deeper.

"And what about Michael?" Griffon asked gently.

Meg blinked. "What about him?"

She expected a question about how he felt about things, about whether or not he was comfortable knowing they were making moves like this, or maybe even an attempt at changing the subject to the boys to ease her mind somewhat.

"What about the way you two looked at each other after you kissed in my laundry room?"

Meg's heart suddenly dropped in her chest, her breath escaping.

"Oh."

  
  


 


	18. Curtain Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The show must go on.

Meg had no idea Michael's hands were so strong.

She had reason to suspect, of course. She'd seen him carry some crazy things, had once even slung her over a single shoulder nonchalantly, and she'd watched him break quite a few things with his bare hands in the past, so it was far from unexpected. Tonight alone he'd picked her up twice. But she'd just never had a reason to think about it before.

Now that they were all over her waist, squeezing at her hips in slow drags of his fingers down her back, holding her tight to his lap… Well, now she had plenty of reason to think about it.

She pulled free from his lips to groan as his thumbs drew small circles against her hip bones. She bit at her lower lip, whole body rocking in his grip, even letting her head roll back for a moment before she bent back to his lips.

She took the moans that echoed on either side of them as approval from the peanut gallery.

With how much had happened in the last few days, Meg had been hesitant about having their first group evening in nearly two weeks. She was hiding so much now, and felt sure at least some of the others were as well. It was things she needed to talk about, yes, but she'd do it once she knew for sure what she was even thinking. There was no sense upsetting the status quo until then. _Especially_ not when it was a status quo that gave her her pick of three of her favorite people to smooch on.

But their time at the movie had gone so smoothly, and their trip to Walmart to buy taco supplies had turned into a two hour long adventure that concluded with new pajamas for everyone, six new movies added to their collections, and a literal trunkful of groceries that had taken two trips to get back into the Jones' apartment, despite all four of them helping… the day had been so fun, she couldn't help herself. So she'd gone and helped herself, instead.

It had started with a playful kiss to Lindsay on their way into the apartment, which Lindsay had countered with a quick spank that sent them both into giggles. Michael had poked his head back out of the kitchen to ask what was going on that was so much more important than helping put the groceries away. On a whim, Meg had answered him with a demonstration - slapping his ass with a wink and a click of her tongue as she walked past him. He'd narrowed his eyes, glancing between her and Lindsay before lunging at Meg, grabbing her around the waist and picking her up from behind. She shrieked and thrashed, laughing as she tried to escape, only for Lindsay to grab her by the ankles and hold her still from the other side.

By the time Gavin appeared to investigate the ruckus, Meg was folded up between them, knees hooked over Lindsay's elbows, Michael still supporting her around the waist, and Lindsay kissing her up against Michael's shoulder.

He'd scolded them and helped Meg down gently, not even trying to keep a straight face as he swatted them both away.

Somewhere along the way, Lindsay got far enough behind Gavin to smack his ass, causing him to squawk and take another swat at her. She caught his hand skillfully, puffing her cheeks to keep from laughing as she raised it high enough to kiss his knuckles.

He scoffed, pulling his hand away and rolling his eyes. Then Michael's arm had been around him from the other side, his voice so low that Meg barely heard him as he asked Gavin if he was jealous.

Gavin had stammered a no, momentarily startled to turn his head and find Michael's face so close, but not enough to pull away. They hung there for a moment, Gavin licking his lips as he glanced at Michael's, and Meg licking her own as she glanced between the two, breath held in anticipation.

But instead Michael had pulled Meg close, turning to kiss her instead. She'd squeaked at the sudden contact, then let out her breath as a satisfied sigh against his lips. Relief washed over her in the form of a warmth that started wherever their bodies touched, any doubts Griffon had instilled in her momentarily forgotten. Everything just felt unbelievably natural, even as Michael scooped her up again, this time carrying her to the couch, the sound of Lindsay blowing a raspberry at Gavin following behind them.

She'd been on Michael's lap for a few minutes now, her hands rubbing encouragingly at his neck and shoulders while they exchanged rapid kisses. Michael's hands hadn't been quite as reserved, travelling all over her restlessly. They were under her shirt now, and she presumed he'd gotten grabby with her hips to resist reaching for her chest instead. Which was fine, except for the fact that Meg _wanted_ him to go for her chest instead.

She decided the best way to convey this was to let her hands slide down to his chest and take hold of handfuls of his shirt. She rolled her hips on his lap again, pulling free from their kiss with a long sigh. She made sure her next breath was deep enough that it arched her chest forward, bringing her cleavage as close to Michael's eye level as she could manage without intentionally smothering him.

Her trap worked; Michael's attention was immediately drawn to her chest, wide eyes flitting between her neckline and her face several times. His grip faltered. He licked his lips, bowed his head, and she tilted hers out of his way until she felt hot breath wash over her, well below her collarbone.

Every muscle from her waist down clenched for just an instant when his lips reached her skin. She gasped - more of a whimper, really - and let go of his shirt, bracing herself on his chest to keep upright. Michael inched down along her neckline, one kiss at a time, his hands tightening on her hips again and pulling her closer, higher.

Then there was another hand, lower, squeezing her thigh. Gavin's, she was sure - even if she didn't remember who'd been on what side of them, there was no mistaking his and Lindsay's for each other. A gentle kiss to her shoulder followed, then breath on the shell of her ear.

His voice was a low purr in her ear, his hand tightening on her thigh as he spoke. "Save some for the rest of us, love."

Meg's heart sunk, her arms falling limp. There it was; the curtain call. The dividing line between four and two. She might be able to steal another kiss or two, but if Gavin had reached the cracking point then Lindsay had been holding back for a while. But maybe she could stall…

Grabbing a handful of Michael's shirt again to stabilize herself, she turned to Gavin, laced her fingers into his hair, and kissed him hard.

He cooperated for a few seconds, then pulled back, resting his chin to her forehead. She felt his face move - he was mouthing something past her - before he let her drag him back in for another kiss. The angle had put her chest out of Michael's reach, but he was compensating by kissing her neck without restraint, the hand closer to Gavin inching up her side beneath her shirt like he was going to use the gap between them to finally feel her up.

Then Lindsay's arms were around her from behind, dragging Meg off Michael's lap faster than either of them could react. For a fleeting second, all three of them had her hands on her - Michael's still on her hips, Lindsay's wrapped around her waist, and Gavin's still pressed to her thigh. Then she was on Lindsay's lap, one leg still draped across Michael's, her fingers still clutching to the boys' shirts as she tried to delay the inevitable, and-

There were lips on her neck again, and breasts very obviously pressed flush to her back, and while one of Lindsay's arms was around her waist and focused on holding her still, the other had chosen a more interesting handhold. Meg relented in her attempts to get back on Michael's lap, instead clapping her hands over Lindsay's to encourage them to stay exactly where they were.

She let out a long, satisfied sigh, and was answered by a low chuckle against her shoulder.

"What?" Meg asked playfully.

"I'd been wondering when I'd get a turn." Lindsay was definitely trying to make her answer sound sultry, but couldn't stop giggling long enough for it to be effective.

Meg pressed her lips together and squeezed Lindsay's hands tighter.

She was no longer afraid this was the curtain call. No sooner had she been dragged off Michael's lap than Gavin had replaced her, going so far as to unceremoniously shove her leg off to make room - though he patted her knee apologetically after. He was straddling Michael now, knees against the back of the couch, feet hanging off the edge, a hand on his shoulder to keep his balance.

Then they both hesitated.

It was impossible not to notice. As soon as Gavin settled in he glanced down to Michael's face and both suddenly seemed taken aback by their positions.

Meg tried to remember if she'd ever seen Gavin be on top before. Nothing came to mind - it was always Michael. Michael pinning him to the couch, Michael pinning him to the wall, Michael pinning him to the floor, Michael pinning him to the car door from the other side of the back seat. There were times they'd been side by side instead, but never once had Gavin been the one on Michael's lap.

Her boyfriend's nervous gulp was audible to Meg even over her own heavy breathing. He leaned down slowly, tilting his head in search of the right angle to kiss Michael from, since his perch left his chin at the top of Michael's head. Michael was cooperative enough to lean his head back and meet him halfway; the way he immediately groaned said his head was still cloudy from the time Meg had spent on his lap.

That was enough to ease some of the confusion. Michael relaxed backwards, letting his head rest on the back of the couch, while Gavin arched over him, leading the way on their kisses. It was obvious he wasn't as aggressive about it was Michael, his lips pulling back every few seconds like he was teasing him and trying to get Michael to follow him back off the couch. Each time Gavin returned too quickly to actually frustrate him, leaving him to chuckle and let Gavin do all the work.

Gavin's hands were braced on the back of the couch on either side of Michael's head, pinning the older boy in while holding himself up above both his face and lap. The angle was more than a little awkward, his arms quickly tiring, but he wasn't sure where else to rest them. When Michael was the one on his lap, he could easily just rest them on his thighs, or maybe take a handful of his shirt if he wanted an anchor, but from this angle, he was lost. Gavin tried to remember where Michael put his hands when he was on top, or where Meg had hers when they were making out…

He shivered as the still-fresh memory of Meg's hands roaming over Michael's neck and chest came to mind. Gavin pulled back to gasp, taking a few deep swallows of air before pressing back to Michael's lips again. One hand dropped to Michael's neck, thumb tracing his jaw instinctively before Gavin trailed his fingers into his hair. His other arm finally gave way so that Gavin was leaning on his forearm instead of his hand, braced much closer to Michael's face, and much more easily. The position left their chests pinned together and Michael's head pressed down into the headrest, Gavin's fingers toying with his hair on the side closer to the girls.

A satisfied sigh drifted over from Meg, and while Michael couldn't be sure if it was about what he and Gavin were doing or what Lindsay might be doing, either way he chuckled at the sound before letting out a sigh of his own. He relaxed further still into the couch as their kisses deepened, groaning into Gavin's mouth. The taste of him and the feel of his body pressed so close couldn't help but remind Michael of the previous weekend, and he found himself glad Gavin's position left him inches above his lap, because it meant it would be a while before he knew how strongly the memory was affecting him. He needed that time to think, to decide if it was worth trying to do it again with the girls here with them, when he hadn't told Lindsay what had happened yet or even talked about it with Gavin. So he needed to keep him above his lap for now, and needed to keep distracting himself from the idea Gavin might be just as hard already.

Michael nipped at the younger boy's lip, grinning to himself when Gavin made a startled noise of objection and immediately reciprocated. A few glances of teeth on lips and jaws later, Gavin sank his lips back into Michael's firmly, pushing him into the couch by the mouth. His other hand found its way into Michael's hair, mirroring the first, holding his head captive between the two of them.

Aside from a few hesitant touches to Gavin's back to stabilize him when he sat down, Michael's hands had stayed resting limply on the couch, just as unsure of where else to go as Gavin's had been. But as Michael started to lose himself in the slow passes of Gavin's tongue against his and the breathy whimpers of the girls beside him, he lost track of his hands and lost reservation about touching his friend. They ghosted up Gavin's thighs, tracing him to know where he was without having to open his eyes, then came to rest on his waist, palms resting just above his hip bones. Gavin jumped and broke their kiss at the contact, causing Michael to go rigid and pull his hands back in a panic.

He heard Gavin swallow hard and opened his eyes to find him panting for breath, face still just inches above Michael's, fingers still tangled in his hair. "...'salright," Gavin mumbled after a moment, eyes darting between Michael's eyes and lips. "Just wasn't expecting… gah."

Gavin made a frustrated noise before forgoing words in favor of just claiming Michael's lips again, pressing him down into the couch in the process. Michael managed to gasp through his nose, slightly taken aback by Gavin's forcefulness, but after a moment his shoulders softened. Hesitantly he let his hands rest back on Gavin's waist, fingers drumming on his back lightly to let him know he was there.

From her place on Lindsay's lap, Meg forced herself to turn her head and press a kiss to Lindsay's lips. It was the only thing she could think of to quell the urge she felt rising in her to start goading the boys on verbally. She wanted to tell Gavin to go for Michael's neck, to tell Michael to grab Gavin's ass, ultimately to tell them to strip down to their underwear and grind for her amusement. But she also wanted to have patience with them. As much as everything she was doing was meant to drown out Griffon's advice and let her just enjoy herself, Meg couldn't help but wonder - no, but almost _hope_ \- that the boys were going through a similar turmoil behind the scenes. She'd toyed with being so bold as to ask Gavin outright if he felt about Michael what she felt about Lindsay, but he was so vulnerable to the powers of suggestion sometimes that she hadn't dared. Whether it was meant for the her and Lindsay's entertainment or not, the boys had still arrived at the position before her of their own accord, and she wasn't about to mess with that.

Instead she pulled free from Lindsay's lips and leaned back, resting her head onto Lindsay's shoulder and biting her lip as she enjoyed the attention the younger girl was giving her. And the view, of course - but that was rapidly becoming background noise to the hands wandering her body. Lindsay's left hand had long since worked its way up her shirt, prompting Meg to unhook her bra and toss it to the side to give her full access to her skin. Lindsay's fingers rolled and pinched at her nipple absentmindedly, the rest of her hand supporting her breast and bouncing it occasionally. Her other had left Meg's waist in favor of squeezing at her thigh, a venture that seems to drift higher and higher on her leg with every passing moment.

Meg was doing her best to encourage Lindsay by splaying herself wide on her lap. The leg Lindsay was caressing was bent, her knee resting on the couch between them and the boys, while the other was hooked on Lindsay's far leg, leaving her very, very open, though her thigh highs and shorts left only a few inches of skin actually exposed.

She whimpered when Lindsay's fingers finally passed into that line, leaving the thin fabric of her thigh-highs behind and squeezing at bare skin instead. The sound made Lindsay growl almost possessively, her lips pulling free from Meg's neck to nip at her jaw instead. Meg whimpered again and Lindsay let out a low hum of approval, squeezing roughly with both hands. It was the instinctive roll of Lindsay's hips underneath her that made Meg actually moan, squirming in a way that pressed her into Lindsay's hands all the more firmly.

All their noise drew Gavin's attention, his head turning to watch for a moment and find out what was pleasing his girlfriend so. He got a distracted smile for his efforts, Meg making eye contact with him for just a few seconds before biting her lip and tilting her head back onto Lindsay's shoulder. He watched for a moment as Lindsay grazed her teeth down Meg's shoulder, their bodies shifting visibly as her hips rolled again, his eyes trailing toward the movement and catching where Meg's shirt was hiked high enough that the slight red mark that her bra had left was visible before Lindsay's hand disappeared beneath it.

He didn't get a chance to look much further, because then his eyes were shut tight, the air escaping him as Michael arched up and kissed at the exposed side of his neck.

Then there were fingers in his hair, pulling him lower and closer and holding him within range of Michael's wandering lips, until he was sitting down on Michael's lap instead of hovering over him. His other hand slid along Gavin's back, wrapping the fabric of his shirt around his fingers to anchor him. Gavin squirmed and gasped in his hold, neck twisting to pull away from - no, to push into - no, to just _react_ to Michael's kisses, as every brush of his tongue made it a little harder to stay still.

The next twitch of Gavin's hips was so heavy on Michael's lap that it sent him reeling, lips jerking free from Gavin's skin to shout.

He buried his face again before Gavin could have a chance to notice his reaction.

Meg watched intently, her only instinct to press her back more firmly into Lindsay.

She reached down with one hand, groping around the lap she was sitting on until she got a good handhold on Lindsay's thigh. Her mouth hung open as she used that hold to rock herself against Lindsay, butt grinding into the younger girl's lap. Meg's other hand grappled at the one on her own thigh, squeezing it tight until Lindsay followed suit. Meg gasped and let go, finding poorly-focused eye contact with her boyfriend for a fleeting second before throwing her head back again.

Lindsay was all teeth with her neck now, grazing them just hard enough Meg would be surprised if she didn't show up to work Monday with raised trails of pink still decorating her. She squeezed Meg's thigh again, letting her thumb slip beneath the cuff of her shorts and pet the tender flesh there. Meg squirmed, panting hard, using her grip on Lindsay's hip to grind more effectively.

Lindsay's fingers grew bolder, sneaking further and further up the leg of Meg's shorts, tickling her thigh along the way. They were short enough that her fingers could reach all the way up them with little trouble, leaving Meg biting her tongue as she silently pleaded with Lindsay to take advantage of that. But each time, Lindsay either just missed the silky fabric of her panties, or briefly brushed it only to retreat again. Whether it was out of shyness, teasing, or her simply not noticing, Meg couldn't guess, but it was straddling the line between tantalizing and infuriating quite nicely.

The boys' "show" was barely even a distraction anymore. Any time she managed to follow their motions it was only long enough to wish she was in one of their spots, or that they were sitting closer together, so she could sate her thirst for kisses via Gavin. Then she could feel the moans Michael was inspiring first-hand, have someone touching more of her...

She gasped so deeply her back arched, digging in with both hands and holding her breath. Lindsay's fingers had worked their way up to her underwear, finally brushing across her mound with enough pressure to mean something instead of feeling like a fleeting tickle. The contact slid right across her clit - whether intentionally or by coincidence, she didn't know, but with all the teasing and kisses that had lead up to it, that single pass was electrifying, and it was all she could do not to beg Lindsay to do it again.

Blessedly she did, fingertips tracing across the silky fabric for a few seconds more, following along the line of her slit-

Then her hand retreated just as quickly.

Lindsay kissed at Meg's jaw, wordlessly asking for kisses as her fingers massaged at her thigh again, leaving Meg squeaking and whimpering from lost contact. She twisted further on Lindsay's lap, until she could sling her arm around her neck, keeping their faces pressed close together. A few kisses later Meg was clinging to Lindsay's wrist, holding her hand tight to her breast. If she couldn't get quite the right contact elsewhere, she could at least get it there.

Lindsay's fingers glided under the cuff of her shorts again, but went no further, instead turning back and teasing their way under the edge of her thigh-highs.

Meg groaned in frustration. It was almost agony, being at the others' mercy for pacing. The boys would just keep making out until one of them decided he was tired of waiting and dragged their respective lady off to their room. Lindsay was no better, really; now that the boys were back she was sure it would delay any chance of real sexual contact between them, and while overall Meg was alright with that, it was too much waiting to take. There was an upper limit to time permissible with hands up clothes without clothes coming off, in her opinion.

Meg considered unzipping her shorts herself when Lindsay's fingers started trailing further away from her panties. Then those same fingers found their way to her stomach, dancing just shy of ticklishly below her bellybutton, and she decided she'd wait a bit longer to give Lindsay a chance to do it herself. She'd take matters into her own hands soon enough if she had to, whether that meant literally so, or nudging Lindsay in the right direction, or just grabbing Gavin and running, but for now she just tried to lose herself in Lindsay's mouth.

But it was hard to stay distracted by a mouth that suddenly fell away from their kisses. Lindsay's hands slowed to a near-standstill as well, leaving Meg squirming impatiently. She opened her eyes, the words to ask what was wrong already on her tongue.

Lindsay had not only stopped moving, but was now openly gawking at the boys, so Meg turned to see what was so damn mesmerizing she had forgotten about their kisses.

...Okay, _that_ was pretty damn mesmerizing.

Gavin had bowed his head to lap at Michael's neck, his face hidden on the side away from the girls. Michael had him clutched in both hands, one threaded in Gavin's hair, encouraging him to keep kissing at his neck, his other squeezing his upper arm tightly. But it was the location of Gavin's hand that left her speechless - namely, tucked between them, visibly stroking the bulge in Michael's pants.

Michael groaned, drawn out, frustrated, and far more guttural than anything she'd heard from him before, the sound at once unfamiliar to Meg and all too well understood. He gasped and his grip on Gavin's shoulder tightened for a moment, his body arching into Gavin's touch despite obvious effort to the contrary.

"Shit!" he grunted when Gavin's next pass had more pressure. His jaw and eyes clenched shut as he struggled to keep his hips still.

Meg let out a quiet moan and was vaguely aware of Lindsay doing the same by her ear. She swallowed hard, tightening her hold on Lindsay's shoulders, pressing the side of her face up against Lindsay's in search of any skin-to-skin contact she could get.

Alarm flashed across Michael's face as Gavin went for his zipper next. He gasped and his eyes flared wide, first gaping at the ceiling, then momentarily at the girls before he shut them tight again as though to deny they were staring at him. His face was filled with almost pained concentration, his tongue playing at his lips repeatedly like he couldn't wet them enough no matter what he did. The rise and fall of his chest was quick and obvious, his posture stiffening, back going straighter and heels digging into the floor.

Meg moaned as Lindsay's fingers pinched at her inner thigh, somewhere beneath her shorts once more but still not close enough for how labored her own breathing had become. Her mouth was dry and she wanted desperately to kiss Lindsay to fix that, to kiss her all over to fix that, but she didn't dare pull her eyes away, either. This was happening, it was actually happening, Gavin - Gavin, not Michael, she'd been so so sure Gavin would never until he was outright asked to by Michael himself - was going for the goods without prompting or any awful awkward discussions. Things just were. They were.

Gavin's hand slid between underwear and open fly and Michael's back arched again, hips lifting for an instant. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Lindsay's instinctive, shuddering sigh at the expression was almost lost behind the moan that followed from Michael.

Michael's head lolled back, his hand slipping from Gavin's hair and landing somewhere on his shoulder. Gavin seemed to take that as his cue to finally pay attention to elsewhere besides the patch of neck Michael had kept him cornered to, quickly rising to kiss him full on.

The only thing Meg could think to do was press herself more firmly back against Lindsay, her legs bending to rest her feet on the couch and brace herself there. Her hips jerked towards Lindsay's hand, urging her to slide the last half inch and put her out of her misery, to touch her and mirror the boys' actions. Meg wanted to ask her to, to tell her to, to whisper all sorts of suggestions and the things she'd do right in Lindsay's ear, but words felt wrong in her throat, like this was all a dream and daring to speak would break the spell.

Gavin was still stroking Michael as they kissed, his whole body bobbing subtly to keep up the slightly awkward angle of his motions. Michael pulled away once, gasping for air like a man drowning, then had Gavin by the collar instantly, dragging him back to his lips and pouring the breath he'd managed into a long groan. From there his breaths came as quick puffs when their kisses got too messy and he found space between them for an instant, Michael's hand dropping from his friend's collar and groping blindly for other handholds on his way down, until he found a place to rest his hands on Gavin's thighs and squeezed hard. Gavin whined in response, brow furrowing as he bit at Michael's lower lip in a scolding manner, his head tilting from there to trail back down Michael's jaw instead.

"Nnn- Gavin…" Michael's voice was dry and caught in his throat as his hips jerked up into Gavin's palm again. "Fuck-"

Meg had to shut her eyes when their lips met again, clinging desperately to Lindsay and squirming in place.

Gavin only kissed her like that - with that much ferocity, with that much actual control instead of just following her whims - when they'd been apart for days or weeks and he was desperate with the want to finally touch her again after so long. Meg squeezed Lindsay's hand in hers so tightly she knew it must surely hurt, but she needed the anchor as the question crossed her mind of how long Gavin must have been waiting, then, for him to treat Michael with that same desperation.

She whimpered as Lindsay's fingers finally made it back up her thigh, toying with the elastic of her panties. Meg pressed kisses to Lindsay's jaw, her cheek, her temple, anywhere she could reach without untangling her fingers from Lindsay's hair and risking being separated from her by even an inch. She didn't want to let go unless it was to grab for their - no, the - no, their - boys

When she opened her eyes again, Michael was still staring into the air, thoroughly dazed, Gavin's face hidden behind his once more, presumably kissing at his ear or neck. His eyes fluttered vacantly as he let out a particularly loud moan, his hips rolling shamelessly into Gavin's hand.

Lindsay turned her head to kiss Meg again, managing only an instant before she had to pull back for breath. Meg followed her hungrily, eager to steal each breath from her as quick as she could gasp for it, until she was moaning back. Meg squeaked as Lindsay squeezed her breast roughly, pulling back finally to catch her own breath, forehead pressed against Lindsay's.

A few seconds of near-silence later, Michael had snapped to attention, expression dripping rage as he jerked upright so quickly Gavin jumped off his lap to avoid falling.

"What the fuck?!" he shouted, bracing his arms in preparation to hop up after him. "The fuck's your problem?!"

Meg scrambled off Lindsay's lap as fast as possible, the younger girl's hands jerking out from under her clothes as soon as she felt her moving. She fit herself into the space between Lindsay and the arm of the couch, curling up on herself instinctively. Michael hadn't truly scared her - it was Michael, after all - but she was still in a panic, unsure what part of the last two minutes had suddenly changed his mood and unwilling to risk making things worse if the sexual nature of their situation had only just set in and upset him. A quick glance at Lindsay showed she was just as confused as Meg, one hand held out towards Michael, but hesitantly, like she was more prepared to stop him than trying to comfort him.

Meg straightened out her shirt, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her attention to Gavin, waiting to take her clues from him.

"What's this now, boi?" Gavin asked nervously, still frozen in the same awkward position he'd hopped into to keep his balance.

"Don't you 'what's this' me," Michael warned.

"You just exploded out of nowhere. You were fine with-" he motioned at him vaguely, pointing downwards and wetting his lips nervously as he tried to find words, "-with me touching your knob 30 seconds ago."

"Oh, was I?"

"I- well it certainly seemed that way. A bit far in to suddenly complain, don't you think?"

"Well gee, maybe something changed," Michael snarled.

"Changed? But all I said-"

"I know what you said."

Gavin didn't even try to complete his sentence, instead drawing in a breath and raising his chin and shoulders. He shoved his hands in his pockets - he was definitely trying to look aloof about things, but Meg had seen enough to know he was trying to cover up the effects making out had had on him.

"Guess I shouldn't be so fucking surprised," Michael mumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back to glare up at Gavin. "That's how it's been since day one. It's my own fucking fault for thinking last weekend changed jack shit."

"How what's been?" Lindsay asked, glancing between the boys.

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes.

Gavin looked back from Lindsay to Michael and squared himself up again. "I seem to remember you starting it," he snapped.

"Yeah, well, that's my fucking mistake then," Michael countered, standing up.

He stared Gavin down, the space between him and the couch so narrow their chests would touch if he breathed too deeply. Gavin straightened to his full height in response, ensuring that he was looking down at Michael.

Michael could easily side-step him, but it was clear he had no intention to.

"Michael!" Lindsay shouted.

He startled in place but tried to act as though he hadn't, still staring straight ahead. "Yeah?"

"Go to your fucking room."

He chuckled silently. "Fine."

He pushed past Gavin, making sure the whole of his arm rammed his on the way past - not hard enough to hurt, but clearly an intentional shove. Lindsay and Meg watched as he made his way across the room, re-fastening his pants along the way, and then slammed the door behind him.

Gavin never stopped staring straight ahead.

"You," Lindsay snapped as soon as the door closed, "start talking."

Gavin jerked his head in her direction but otherwise didn't move. "No."

"Yes."

"No!" he insisted. "It's always me who has to explain. Always! And this time, I don't even know what I did wrong! So let him bloody explain it, because I haven't the foggiest." He pulled his hands from his pockets, gesturing in the direction Michael had disappeared in.

"Gavin," Meg said, much more gently.

He sighed, posture immediately drooping, and rubbed his forehead. "Like I said. I don't even know what I did _to_ tell you," he repeated, finding a patch of wall to the side of them to focus on.

Lindsay's scowl faded, concern replacing it as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

"I'm sorry, Turney," Gavin said quietly. "I know how important today was to you." Slowly he turned back toward them, giving another deep sigh. "You too, Lindsay."

Meg smiled softly, reaching her hand out towards him. He took it carefully, shuffling closer and stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

Lindsay gave a heavy sigh, scooting away from Meg to make room for Gavin between them. As soon as he was sitting, Meg rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing both his hands between hers. Lindsay gave his shoulder an affectionate headbutt, and he managed a weak smile in response.

For a moment they all rested in silence, both girls letting their heads lean wearily on Gavin's shoulders, and Gavin's laying his atop Meg's.

"...So much for tacos," Lindsay muttered.

Smiles twitched at the other two's lips as they recognized her words as an attempt to break the sour mood. Lindsay smiled too, but it only made the sigh that followed feel all the heavier.

"No, fuck that," Meg snapped suddenly, jumping to her feet. "I was promised tacos and by god I'm going to get some fucking tacos," she announced, stomping off to the kitchen dramatically.

Gavin chuckled silently, watching her and shaking his head in amusement.

"What do ya say, Gavvy?" Lindsay asked, gently elbowing him. "Should we have some without pouty mcgrowlyface?"

He managed to smile at that. "Food _would_ be a nice distraction from all this lunacy."

They arrived in the kitchen to find Meg already dragging spices from the cabinet, a pan heating on the stove. Half the groceries were still on the counter, forgotten in their distraction, and Lindsay glanced at the clock and kneaded a bag of half-thawed corn to evaluate how long it'd been left out before she started shoving things in the freezer. Gavin followed her, handing a bag to her one item at a time while she crouched in front of the fridge and looked for places to put it all away.

After dropping the empty bag back on the counter he paused, giving Meg a gentle hug around the waist and kissing her on the cheek. She smiled - still a bit forced, but her frustration already waning - and returned the gesture.

"Chop up the tomatoes, please?" she asked him.

"Sure," he answered. He'd opened three cupboards before Lindsay sighed from behind him, pulling open a drawer and pulling out a cutting board to hand to him. "Ah, thanks," he said, grinning. "Glad someone knows what I'm looking for, even if I don't."

"No problem." Lindsay smiled back before adding, "The good paring knife is in the dishwasher, by the way. It's clean."

"What _would_ we do without you," he teased, hugging her sideways.

Lindsay beamed, scrunching her face brattily before kissing him on the nose, inciting a surprised squawk from Gavin. She rolled her eyes and hugged him back before letting him go tend to the tomatoes.

Once Lindsay had finished putting things away and Gavin had finished chopping, the kitchen fell silent aside from the sizzle of ground beef and the hum of the vent fan above it. Unable to find anything to talk about, Lindsay started setting the table to pass the time.

She froze when she set the fourth plate down, but Meg beat her to sighing about it.

"Should one of us go check on him?" she asked, eying the other two warily.

"He can go to bed hungry for all I care," Lindsay muttered, leaning against her husband's usual chair.

They both looked at Gavin, who put his hands up defensively. "Listen, I'm sure I'm the last person he wants to see right now. He's been quiet since he got in there - let's not start things over again."

"He's right," Meg said, looking back to Lindsay. "We should figure out why Michael's upset first, so Gavin knows what he's apologizing for."

"I still don't think I owe anyone any apologies," Gavin grumbled. "Maybe you, Turney, since this messed up our date, but I've already apologized for that."

"Don't worry, I know you did," Meg agreed.

Gavin nodded.

Lindsay just stared at him, eyebrow raised.

He didn't have a chance to notice before Meg looked back over at Lindsay, nodding towards the hallway. "Want me to check up on him, or?"

Lindsay sighed, leaning on the chair until it tipped slightly. "No, no. I'll take care of it… I'll take a taco in as a distraction and try and get him to talk, or at least make him calm down enough to come have dinner like a civilized human being."

"And if he won't?" Meg asked.

"Oh, he will."

 

* * *

 

 

Naturally, he wouldn't.

Lindsay spent only five minutes in the room before returning, tacoless, exasperated and cursing under her breath. She immediately cut across the kitchen, dishing up her own food with every bit of aggression one could channel into filling a tortilla.

Meg watched her for a moment before asking, "No go?"

"What do you think?" Lindsay snapped, tossing the spoon unceremoniously back into the sour cream tub. "Jackass won't talk. And not even as in 'won't tell me what his fucking problem is' but as in 'is being a fucking three year old and won't even use his words'."

"Ouch. That bad?"

"Ohhhhh yeah."

Meg cringed and looked over at Gavin, who was making much the same face as he tried to shrink in his chair.

"I say we let him be alone for a bit. Give him some time to cool down," he suggested. He glanced down at his seat, evaluating if he could slide any further forward without either falling off entirely or tipping it over.

"I guess," Lindsay grumbled.

"My offer still stands," Meg said, resting her hand gently on Lindsay's arm.

Lindsay made a face at the touch but didn't shove her off, instead switching her food to her other hand and taking a bite while she considered it.

"If you really want to," she conceded, "but it wasn't my idea."

"Of course it wasn't," Meg agreed, squeezing gently before letting go.

She managed to stand all the way up before Gavin reached for her. "Turney, wait."

She blinked.

"I don't think you should," he explained, holding onto her wrist.

"And why not?"

"I just- I just don't."

Meg sighed, putting her free hand on her hip. "Gavin, is there something you're not telling us?"

"I- what?! No, of course there isn't," he squeaked, pulling his hand back to hold both up in a display of innocence. "I just feel like, if Lindsay couldn't convince him, there's nothing either of us can do to help right now."

She sighed again, crossing her arms. "Look, I know what you're saying, but I still want to try. If nothing else, I'll bribe him with ice cream or something." Her eyes fell on Lindsay, looking for backup.

Lindsay just shrugged. "Look, be my guest," she said, setting down what was left of her taco. "But you'll be back out here in two minutes with the same exact results."

Meg shrugged back. "I've wasted two minutes on worse."

Lindsay sighed as Meg turned down the hall, closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair, stretching until her spine cracked a few times. She propped her head up on her hands and looked over at Gavin, who was still staring off towards the door.

"I swear," she said, brushing her bangs off her face, "any time we leave you two alone for even a minute, you manage to do _something_ to get yourselves in trouble."

She couldn't shake the feeling Gavin was deliberately avoiding her eyes as he started hastily assembling another taco, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it.

 

* * *

 

 

"Fuck off!"

Meg only managed one knock before Michael shouted through the door.

"That's no fucking way to talk to a lady!" she mock-yelled back at him.

It took a minute before he responded again. "What do you want, Meg?"

"Let me come in?"

"Just you?"

"Yeah?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, whatever. Go for it."

She opened the door just in time to watch him flop backwards on the bed, legs hanging off where he'd been sitting, arms splayed limply.

She closed the door behind her, leaning against the wall beside it.

It took a minute for Michael's sighs to graduate from tired to irritated, but once they did he followed it with, "Well?!"

"Well, what?" Meg asked.

"Well, where is it."

"Where is what?"

Michael sprung upright, glaring at her. "The fucking guilt trip you came in here to deliver, that's what."

Meg shrugged. "What if I figured you'd already said anything to yourself that I could think to say, and then some, so I decided to save my breath?"

He gawked silently for a second, then started to chuckle, slowly breaking down into harder and darker laughter until he fell back on the bed again, shaking his head in frustrated belief.

"Fuck," he complained between laughs, "who gave you the right?"

"To?"

"To get inside my fucking head."

She shrugged. "Takes one to know one, I guess."

Michael snorted.

"May I?" Meg asked, motioning vaguely at the empty side of the bed.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

She flopped down face-first, letting herself bounce from the impact then staying prone until she needed more air than the comforter could afford her.

When she turned her head, she was met by a tired look from Michael, who was staring somewhere between at her and past her.

Meg tucked one of her hands under her head as a pillow, reaching over with the other to rest it near his wrist.

"Well?" she whispered, drumming her fingers slowly on his arm.

"Well, what?" he sighed, her turnabout far from lost on him.

"Where is it?"

"I don't have any guilt trips to lay on you," he said, rolling his eyes as he looked back at the ceiling. "Unless you were hoping I'd recite one of the ones I thought you were going to drop on me, in which case, fuck you, write your own material."

Meg let out a soft giggle.

She waited for the brief smile to fade back off Michael's face before she corrected him. "No, dummy. Where's the inevitable infodump, so we can skip all of the me frowning at you waiting for you to tell me what the hell Gavin did that upset you."

Michael scowled, pulling his arm out of her reach. "He touched my dick, that's what."

Meg sighed, tucking that hand under her head too. "And what was so different about the hundred-twenty-first second of him touching your dick that it was suddenly objectionable when the first hundred-twenty weren't?"

Michael pulled at his face with both hands, growling. "I don't- I just- argh!" He pounded both fists on the bed beside his thighs before gesturing in frustration over his chest. "Look, it was way longer than two minutes, first of all."

"I know."

"Great," he grumbled.

"Well, Lindsay and I both thought it was." She saw his jaw lock at that and closed her eyes. "But apparently you didn't, and that's the important part here."

He was silent long enough that Meg opened her eyes for a moment, making sure he was still awake before letting them slip shut again.

"It was," he muttered finally.

"Hmm?"

"It was. Great, I mean."

Meg's fingers found their way to his arm again. He didn't pull away. "Yeah?" she prompted quietly.

Michael chuckled. "Yeah. Christ, yeah."

She squeezed his arm gently, watching as he closed his eyes again.

"It. Jesus. You, Lindsay, Gavin… everything about the last hour was fucking incredible."

"But?"

Michael sighed, and she felt his arm tense under her fingers.

"...What'd Gavin do?"

He snorted, shaking his head slightly. "It's stupid."

"How's that different than anything else about this?"

Michael shrugged. "Fine." He turned his head to look at her, and she felt his eyes trace her face before he spoke again. "...He pulled out the fucking 'no homo' card."

One laugh escaped before Meg managed to catch herself, but by then it was too late - Michael had already grumbled and turned his face away from her again, this time staring at the far wall.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tapping on his arm again. "It's just kind of ridiculous, y'know?"

He scoffed. "You're telling me."

She sighed heavily, pushing onto her elbows and dragging herself over until she could lay her head on his chest, her arms tucked between herself and his side.

It took a few minutes before she finally felt his breathing stop being stiff, his arm carefully wrapping behind her shoulders.

"When'd that start to bother you?" she asked him quietly.

She felt him laugh bitterly as he didn't even bother pretending he didn't understand what she meant.

"I don't fuckin' know," he grumbled, sighing heavily.

"Sounds about right."

"I don't know," he repeated, shaking his head. "It shouldn't, right? None of this is supposed to be. It's just a game, right?"

Meg folded her lips, grabbing for a handful of his shirt. "I think that depends on who you ask," she whispered.

She heard him swallow hard, felt his next breath stutter under her cheek, and clenched her eyes shut tight.

"What if I ask you?" he whispered back, voice suddenly dry.

"Michael."

"Meg?"

"You're the one who's mad he was getting a platonic handjob."

"That's- that's not-" He growled through his teeth, squeezing her shoulder. "He didn't literally say 'no homo'."

"I figured that much."

They were quiet long enough to hear the TV turn on in the next room.

"He said it was for show. That we were putting on a show, I mean."

"Weren't you?"

"Well, _yeah_ ," he admitted. "But I didn't think that was the _only_ reason."

Meg laughed tiredly. "You die in the game, you die in real life," she said in her best movie-trailer voice.

"That actually sounds less complicated."

"You're telling me."

She lay frozen for a bit, doing her best to keep her breathing steady while a hundred variations of "we need to tell them" ran through her head.

In the end, even "we're on the same page here, right?" proved too cumbersome to get out. She just grunted in frustration instead, nuzzling her face into his ribs for a moment.

She had to force herself back out of his one-armed hug, pushing onto her hands and knees and stretching her back before settling herself to stare him in the eye.

"Apologize to him. Please."

"What?!" Michael demanded, bolting upright.

"You heard me," she insisted, turning to keep her glare leveled on him.

"But he's the one-"

"No, _we're_ the ones breaking the rules."

"No one's _ever_ followed the goddamn rules!"

"You used to."

Michael blinked, then looked away from her quickly. "I guess?"

"Gavin's got no idea you're on different pages."

He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah, you're right."

"I'm not even asking you to face him right now. Hell, you can text him later. Just don't let this fester until everything's ugly on Monday at work again."

He just sighed again.

"For me, if not for him."

He chuckled a moment later. "I already got you a birthday gift, bitch," he teased, casting a smirk in her direction.

"Okay fine then. For him."

"Can I do it tomorrow?"

"If you need the time, sure."

"God damn't, you're supposed to tell me to suck it up and go out there right now."

"Well then, suck it up Mikey!"

"No," he said, making his voice obnoxiously nasally, "and you can't make me."

Meg crossed her arms. "I know where you're ticklish."

He gasped in mock-offense. "You wouldn't."

"Just try me buster," she answered, making wiggly finger motions toward his neck.

He laughed, snatching her hands out of mid air, and she grinned back, still wiggling them.

Their eyes caught for what they both knew was just a bit too long.

Michael cleared his throat, letting her hands go. "I think it'll be easier if I just text him."

"That's fine. Just actually do it, please."

He nodded slightly.

Meg climbed off the bed, straightening her shirt and hair out from how they'd scrunched while she was laying down.

"You're heading home, then?" Michael asked.

"Probably best we do," Meg shrugged. "Less drama that way."

"Right."

"Plus I'm not _not_ getting laid after all of that. Seriously. Fuck that noise."

Michael broke down laughing at that. "Jesus Christ woman," he muttered, shaking his head.

"You're welcome," she countered.

She stood there smiling at him. He sat there, smiling right back.

With Griffon's voice in her head, Meg somehow managed to make herself leave the room without kissing him goodbye.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to RoxasHighWind for beta-ing the shit out of this and putting up with me throwing ideas at her all hours of the day.  
> Special guest thanks to Insert-Blank-Wood, who filled in on those duties when Roxas was busy and I was screaming about needing help reeling in Gavin at 3 in the fucking morning.  
> And as always, thank you to Rosinna, TheresAnthraxInMyBagel, TVBS, and everyone else who not only shows up chapter after chapter but also keeps rooting me on. I'm making so many amazing friends in this fandom, I seriously cannot believe it. You're all incredible.
> 
> Also of note, including A Deal's A Deal, this series just cracked 150,000.  
> To celebrate, I've changed my tumblr URL to 2000pointdick.
> 
> See you next chapter!


	19. The Days After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to say the right words, whether it's because you can't understand what you're feeling to translate it, or it's on the tip of your tongue and you're just not sure if the time is right.
> 
> Luckily, tongues have other uses too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want some tissues.

The ride home passed in a tepid silence, neither Meg nor Gavin quite ignoring the other but neither sure what to say, either. Gavin spent most of the ride scrolling absently through his phone, and once they arrived home, he moved to the couch and continued.

Meg watched him for a minute or two, wondering if she should sit beside him, or at least try talking to him, but the look on his face told her to keep her distance.

It was still early, even by her relatively conservative sleep schedule, but she headed upstairs and collapsed in bed. Sleep was the only activity that sounded remotely attractive; the fire she'd been so quick to remind Michael of earlier had died before they'd even reached the car, smothered by Gavin's inability to look her in the eye.

She was jostled awake some time later by Gavin climbing into bed. When he noticed he'd disturbed her, he shushed her gently, leaning over to brush her hair back and kiss her temple.

"Go back to sleep, love. It's late," he whispered, giving her cheek another gentle stroke with his thumb.

It was the first words she'd heard from him since his nervous "see you" to Lindsay some hours earlier, and hearing him brought her to the brink of tears almost instantly.

Gavin made a startled noise as she threw her arm around him, snuggling into his chest, and clung on as tightly as she could.

"Turney? Are you alright?" he asked cautiously, tilting his head back until he could see the side of her face.

"Mmhmm," Meg answered, voice muffled by his chest but obviously strained.

"You don't sound alright."

"Just relieved," she whispered, hugging him tighter.

"Ah," he said, nuzzling into her hair. "That's alright, then."

She laughed weakly.

"...what about?"

She laughed again, wrapping her fingers over his shoulder. "That things are going to be okay, I guess?"

Gavin took a deep breath and held it, at a loss for what words to use it on.

He wound up pressing kisses into her hair instead, slipping his other arm beneath her to hold her close.

"Michael apologized," he whispered finally.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He texted me a bit ago. Said he panicked and overreacted."

Meg nodded and whispered back, "That's good. ...Did he tell you what he was mad about?"

"No," Gavin answered, his voice distant. "...Did he tell you?"

"No," she lied.

There was no point in worrying him until Michael was ready to say something himself.

 

* * *

 

"There, I fuckin apologized, you happy now?"

Michael chucked his phone onto the coffee table, only looking at it once he heard it clunk into an empty bottle halfway across.

Lindsay raised her eyebrows but didn't actually take her attention away from the game she had up on the TV. "I might be," she said, then muttered a curse as she fell in game.

"You better be."

"What part of tonight am I supposed to be happy about?"

Michael scowled, crossing his arms and sinking lower on the couch. He was sitting sideways across it, intentionally making himself a nuisance to Lindsay by using her lap as a foot rest, but she was doing a good job of ignoring him, even when he poked at her arm or boob with his toes.

His slouching slid his feet clear off her lap and up onto the far arm of the sofa, his head and shoulders settling onto the arm behind him. He tried to bore holes into the side of her head with his eyes; she continued to pay attention only to her game.

"Well?"

"I don't know, okay?!" he snapped, hunching his shoulders around his ears. "I'm sorry, alright?!"

Lindsay took a deep breath, pausing her game and resting her controller on his shins before turning to look at him. "Not alright, no."

"-What?"

She frowned at the genuine surprise in his face and tone, finding something besides him to look at. "I said no,  _ not _ alright."

"But- what?!"

Another long, slow breath later, Lindsay let her head drop onto the back of the couch, controller falling limply out of her hands.

It clattered to the floor as Michael's legs dropped off her lap and he spun around on the couch, kneeling beside her in a hurry.

He hesitated an inch from touching her hand, then grabbed it and held it tightly, letting his forehead rest on her shoulder.

"What'd I fuck up?"

"Michael."

"How bad did I fuck things up, Lindsay. What did I fuck up."

He heard her swallow hard and felt her fist tighten in his grasp.

"Don't make me say it," she whispered.

Michael slumped forward further, until the top of his head was pressed against her jaw.

"I'm sorry," he choked, squeezing her hand as tight as he dared. "I don't know what I'm doing. I-" He sighed hard, trying to steady his breath. "I kissed everyone  _ but _ you tonight. Do you know how fucking scary that is to me?"

Lindsay nodded slowly, mind drifting to the weekend he'd been in LA. "...Yeah. Kinda," she said, voice tight.

Michael shut his eyes tighter and gritted his teeth as he tried to find the right words, the right balance of telling the truth and not overwhelming her with facts he was still hiding. "I- I won't try to say that him touching me didn't feel good. It did."

"...But?" Lindsay managed.

Michael was silent for several seconds, then chuckled silently. "God. I'm gonna sound like a teen romance character saying this."

"Is that any different than the teen anime character you sound like saying everything else?" Lindsay teased quietly.

He laughed, letting go of her hand to flick the back of it softly. "Fuck you," he said affectionately.

"Yeah, yeah," she answered, turning her hand over to lace her fingers with his. "...So?"

Michael sighed, lowering his head so he was practically speaking into her shoulder, like he was afraid to hear his own answer.

"I'm not sure I can let someone touch me like that unless they mean it," he muttered, squeezing her hand tight.

She took a moment to piece together his meaning before letting her cheek rest on his head and whispering back, "That's reasonable."

"I'm sure it wasn't going to go much farther, but-"

"It was still a couple steps over the no homo line?"

Michael sputtered, snapping upright and spilling out every syllable that could pass for a word he could. "I- no, I- that's not- I- I mean, yeah, but-"

"Michael."

He gulped. "Yeah?"

"Please, Michael. Just." She shook her head, staring him dead in the eyes from point blank. "Either tell me what happened, or fix the fact I'm the one you never kissed today."

His eyes narrowed as he nervously considered the suggestions. "...Is this a real option, or?"

"It is if you hurry up and decide."

His lips were on hers before she'd finished the last word.

 

* * *

 

Gavin was still far away, mentally, when he felt Meg start nuzzling under his chin. He drifted back to reality and kissed her forehead, smiling when she hummed happily in response.

She trailed a series of kisses up over his cheek, settling finally at the corner of his mouth and waiting there, a breath away. Gavin chuckled and answered her hesitation with a quick kiss and a careful rub of his nose alongside hers. She was smiling when she kissed him in return, lingering tiredly against his lips.

For a moment they both relaxed there, barely kissing, faces pressed too close together for their eyes to focus on one another's, even if there'd been enough light in the room to do so. Their breath mingled in the millimeters between their lips, when there was even that much, their breathing the only sound in the room.

Meg took a deep breath and kissed Gavin again, much firmer than any of the kisses that came before. Then she settled her forehead back against his, exhaling slowly, her breath too hot for how long the day had been.

Gavin gave her another quick kiss and then slid one hand up her back, stroking his thumb experimentally down the side of her neck. She took another deep breath at the first touch, and he felt her brow furrow against his. Another touch and her arm tightened around him. He threaded his fingers into her hair and she ducked her head, burying her face against his neck and taking another shaky breath.

A year before, he might have thought she was about to cry, and admittedly she liked to hide in the same corner of his shoulder the rare times she did break down. But some time during their worried whispers, her hold on his back had slid to his shoulder blade, and whether she'd done it on purpose or pure instinct, that specific touch had intent behind it that he knew quite well.

He kissed at her temple, then all along her hairline, pulling her close against his chest.

Meg hummed appreciatively, holding him all the tighter.

By the time his kisses trailed all the way back to her lips, she was already swaying gently against him, making them both rock slowly.

"Good morning?" Gavin asked when he pulled back, his voice cracking from grogginess.

Meg giggled. "It's like 2 in the morning."

"Oh," he said, genuinely surprised. "...Then I hope you have a good excuse to be waking me up," he teased.

"I can't just wake you up to tell you I love you?" she asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

He chuckled, kissing her again and rolling her onto her back. "You can," he assured her between kisses, "but only because I love you too."

Meg purred, reaching up with both hands to hold his cheeks. She was trying to keep him close, to make him let her deepen their kisses, but Gavin was Gavin and he was far more fond of peppering her lips and face until she was desperate. She still had no idea if it was a deliberate attempt to tease and excite her, or just his hyperactive nature keeping him from staying in one spot for too long.

His kisses found their way down her jaw and her neck, causing her to gasp and roll her head back. Her fingers slipped into his hair, then away down his shoulders, her eyes fluttering shut.

She'd awoken from a dream just before - a vague one that was more a patchwork of half-remembered moments than a fantasy, but enough of them had involved Lindsay's fingers on her thighs that the heat in her stomach was still there when she woke up. Gavin was usually a heavy sleeper so she'd hoped that just clinging to him would sooth her enough she could fall back asleep. She hadn't actually meant to wake him up...

...But now that he was awake and on top of her, why should she complain?

She wasn't honestly sure the fire that afternoon had started had ever truly gone out. Certainly the stress and drama had reduced it to coals, but the first hint of Gavin's breath on her skin had sent it roaring back to life.

His familiar gentleness was so different from the way the Joneses almost manhandled her, and while their technique was incredible in its own way, she was quickly realizing Gavin's touch was the one she needed in the here and now. His fingers knew just where to graze down her side to make goosebumps ripple across her skin. His lips had learned where to peck and where to drag to stir her pulse until her breath was hot with desire.

Meg pulled him back upwards, face to face, finally coaxing a deep kiss out of him.

The shiver that went down his spine as he groaned into her mouth was obvious; his arousal pressed into her thigh, even more so.

Keeping Gavin still was a feat not even she could muster though, so it wasn't long before he pulled free, wiping his lips on her shoulder before sliding further down her body. His hands brushed up her hips, pushing her nightshirt up her sides until it was bunched below her arms. Flashing her a quick smirk, he ducked his head to kiss between her breasts.

She just smiled fondly, watching him until the first circles of his tongue on her nipples sent her head lolling back again.As his doting continued, the raw urgency within her dulled to a persistent ache. She was still needy, still horny, and certainly still plotting how she wanted to ride her boyfriend until daybreak, but their foreplay was dragging on just enough that her mind started to wander. She suspected it was instinct at this stage - their friends' kisses was a frequent focus of their dirty talk lately, and the roller coaster of emotions the day had taken her on had left her quieter than normal, her voice reserved for moans and quiet whimpers of his name. Normally she'd be directing him, encouraging him to kiss her here or touch her there, to squeeze her thigh harder or come back up and kiss her already. He more than knew how to do it all on his own by now, and was perfectly capable of coming up with new ways to excite her on his own, but there was just something about her gently commanding him that left them both even more turned on.

Gavin knew he was being almost painfully slow, but in his mind, Meg deserved the attention. She always did. He'd been waiting for her say so to carry on and move further down her body, but he was realizing no suggestions were coming. Instead he let his mind shift, paying attention not to words but her moans. Her reactions would be his guide of when to dwell and when to hurry up already.

He'd barely made it down from her breasts before Meg was on her elbows, wrestling her nightshirt the rest of the way on then flopping back down with a relieved sigh. They both chuckled at the distraction, Gavin flashing her a grin before hooking his fingers under the band of her panties; as long as she was pulling off clothes, why shouldn't they get it all done at once?

They both stripped quickly, leaving them with Gavin's underwear the only clothing left between them. He'd debated taking them off while he was at it, but Meg had been so grabby he'd just let her pull him back down. One needy kiss was all it took for Gavin to decide get his dick out when he needed it; right now was Meg time.

As much as he loved her embrace, he had ribs to finish traversing. Gavin whispered to tell her so, prompting a giggle and a kiss to his nose before she let him go. He ducked right away, picking up where he left off, dragging out the attention as he worked his way down her stomach. He stuck to the stretches he knew would make her moan, maybe squirm a little in the good way, but away from where she'd be reduced to ticklish giggles. 

Every little noise Meg made as his kisses travelled down her body went straight to his hard-on, prompting him to grind on her leg - slowly enough to not rile himself up any worse, but deliberately enough to let her know it was there. Part of him wanted to just fuck her as soon as possible, his dick almost hurting from all the sudden mood swings he'd put it through that evening. But he still hadn't had enough of touching her since their week apart, still had inches to reacquaint himself with and his favorite twist of her hips to coax out of her.

And, on some level, he still needed to get the memory of Michael off his hands.

Gavin slid off the leg he was straddling, centering himself between Meg's legs instead, pressing a kiss just above her navel. His fingers squeezed at her thigh, trying to overwrite the feeling of hard dick beneath thin boxers with the plushness of her body. Her hips rolled beneath him, legs bending to open herself wider to him, heels digging into the bed.

Gavin's lips paused at the crest of her hip, letting his breath tickle her stomach. Meg inhaled deeply, her stomach rising beneath his lips, and he cooed as he kissed across her belly, feeling it deflate again as she moaned. His hand slipped between them, the back of his knuckles teasing her slit.

Meg gasped, one leg hooking over his shoulder, leaving her heel to dig into his back. He turned his head to nip at her thigh, and she whimpered, reaching down to tangle her fingers into his hair.

He chuckled and smiled, letting his fingers straighten, slipping one inside her slowly while the others cradled her mound. His face pressed into her thigh as he listened to her squeak, his teasing grew deeper. One finger became two and she called out his name in approval, her grip on his hair tightening.

Gavin's eyes scrunched shut as his smile suddenly faded, the thoughts he'd been struggling to shake off all evening rising to the surface yet again again.

Michael had freaked out over what he said. He kept playing dumb to Meg about that, so that he wouldn't have to admit to her what he'd told Michael, at least not until he figured out why Michael was so upset. But he was more and more sure he understood why, and the surfacing realization was making focus on fingering his girlfriend harder and harder.  _ I can talk it out with her later _ , he repeated to himself, face hidden against her leg. As it was, she still didn't even know that wasn't the first time he'd touched Michael's knob, and he'd have to break that news before asking for help reasoning out why this time was so different.

He wished Meg would just talk, would say something more than the single moan of his name, so he'd have something to focus on and keep himself in the present. He tried to think of something to say, to ask her to get her talking.

Meg whimpered as Gavin's fingers hooked and found her G-spot. She pulled on his hair almost painfully hard before suddenly seeming to notice she was doing so, letting go to grip the blankets instead.

Gavin was grateful; his head was still a bit tender from how rough Michael had been with-

He cursed against her thigh. No, he wasn't thinking of Michael right now, not anymore, not with the fight so fresh in his mind and Meg beneath him and-

Lindsay, he'd meet his brain halfway and think about Lindsay for a second, find a happy medium between subjects to use as a segue back to what mattered. He closed his eyes all the tighter, trying to recall the glimpses he'd seen of the girls making out. He watched Lindsay squeezing Meg's leg out of the corner of his eye - squeezed it now in that same spot - watched her fingers inch toward her core, where his were now. Watched Meg writhe on her lap, her face flushed, her shirt askew, breasts out for all to see and Lindsay to play with, teasing her with an instinctive skill that had taken him years to master.

Gavin's mind jumped to the time he'd been out of town. The girls had both said their intentions, but he still had no idea how that had gone. He was suddenly self-conscious, wondering if his finger fucking skills measured up to Lindsay's, or if he needed to go ask her for tips now. He knew Lindsay had slept in their bed with Meg; her hair was just enough of a different color from Meg's for him to recognize the hairs on his pillow as hers. How many times during those four days had they been in this same position? How many times had Lindsay coaxed an orgasm from Meg, left her shouting her name in ecstasy? If he and Michael hadn't even planned to and had wound up doing so anyway, surely the girls had-

"Meg," he muttered, saying her name out loud to ground him.

She called back to him, his name skewed by a whimper. "Gav- ahhh,  _ Gavin _ !"

He pushed another finger into her, rubbing the pad of his thumb into her clit deliberately instead of just letting it rest against her. Gavin wanted to make it clear to her that he wasn't just warming her up for his dick, that he was putting all his focus here and now into making her cum. All she'd gotten that afternoon was teasing, and she deserved so much more than that.

Gavin kissed at her thigh, leaned down to kiss at her stomach again, all the while rocking his hand urgently, grinding against her inside and out, feeling his own arousal build as her moans tightened into gasps and squeaks. Her hips started to push into his motions, grinding her clit against his hand urgently.

"Fuck- Gav!" she shouted, hips bucking up off the bed. He pussy clenched down on his fingers as she came, her hips collapsing to the bed and whole body going limp, save the pulsing around his still-hooked digits. He was careful to leave them inside her until her little shudders stopped, only then pulling them out slowly and gliding their slickness over her soaked labia.

Meg let her leg slip off his back, sighing heavily, satisfied but momentarily exhausted. Gavin crawled back up carefully and settled on top of her, face to face once more. He kissed her, soft enough that she could still catch her breath but long enough that she wasn't sure she wanted to.

When he finally pulled back, all she could do was smile.

Gavin grinned back, gazing deep into her eyes, still glossy from the throes of passion.

She closed them and bit her lip as he rocked his hips against her, not-so-subtly letting her know he was ready for more whenever she was.

"Mmm... don't worry, I still definitely could use some of that in me," Meg assured him.

"Glad to hear it," he teased, lips grazing hers as he spoke.

She chuckled, kissing him gently, her hand tracing lazy circles on his arm as she collected herself. The need that had been wound up inside her all day was mostly sated, but there was still a heat dwelling there, dully pulsing, that felt deeper than his fingers had reached; she definitely still wanted to go for a ride.

She let her kisses linger a little longer each time, until she was pulling softly at his lips with her own.

Gavin relished each kiss, but also felt his mind drifting again without the distraction of fingering her.

"So who's better at that?" he whispered, hesitating only to decide how sincere he wanted to make the question sound.

"Hmm?"

"I mean, do I still measure up now that you've been spoiled by Linds for a weekend."

Meg snorted, then outright laughed, reaching up to fluff his hair. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Well." He couldn't tell her the truth just yet; that it was a combination of genuine curiosity and a hope that recounting her alone time with Lindsay would set the stage for him to confess everything. "It's  _ mostly _ a boys are absolute pervs question, but I'd like to think I mostly just love hearing you talk about things like that."

Meg's laughter softened, then she smirked, pressing her hands to his chest. With well-practiced ease, she pushed him off and rolled them over, pinning him down. "I know you do," she purred.

"I know you know."

"But not tonight."

"...no?" he questioned, caught by surprise.

"I think we've thought quite enough about the Joneses for one weekend... No one else, no fantasies tonight," she murmured. She scooted back until she was straddling his hips, groaning as she settled her soaked pussy onto his still-covered erection and ground down into it. "Just- ahhhh- us."

It was hard to argue, or for his mind to wander, with that much wet heat on his dick, so he opted not to even try.

After all, he was trying not to think about Michael.

 

* * *

 

"Can we talk for a minute?"

"You're not going to give me a choice in the matter, are you?"

"Your choices are now or later."

"Are they really?"

"Gavin."

"I'm not moving from this stool."

Lindsay sighed and ground her teeth.

She was trying very, very hard to not be too rough on Gavin.

On top of everything else, he'd managed to get Jack annoyed with him again that morning, so it wasn't even lunch and he'd already retreated to the office kitchen. She'd found him perched on a stool, doing a better job of chewing on his beer's cap than he was actually drinking it, and was leaning across the counter in front of him.

"I'm not angry at you, if that helps."

"It doesn't, no."

She sighed again, sprawling forward and letting her face smoosh into the counter.

"Sorry," Gavin muttered.

"Don't be," Lindsay assured him, voice muffled by the counter. She stretched, spreading her fingers wide and arching her back before finally righting herself. "You've got every right to not want to talk to any of us."

"But I'm not  _ not _ talking to you?" he said, confused. "We've been talking all morning."

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean I totally get it if you're still upset by everything."

Gavin glanced around, surveying the room for anyone close enough to take in their words as gossip. "What makes you think I am?"

"I don't know, you're pretty frazzled."

He frowned.

"Plus you seemed pretty sure you weren't going to like whatever I wanted to talk about."

He frowned harder.

Lindsay leaned onto the counter. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Well, that's all of us then, isn't it."

"...So, are you trying to be difficult, or...?"

"I'd say I've earned it."

She shrugged. "Not saying you haven't."

Gavin sighed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"After work is fine."

"Yeah, but then I'll just be thinking about it all day."

"You weren't already?"

"I'm pretty alright at not thinking about things."

"Touché."

He took a deep breath, then lept up all at once. "Well, if we're going to talk, we should talk."

Before either one could say a word, the office door swung open behind them, Geoff walking out backwards and Jack laughing behind him. Geoff interrupted the rambling story he was telling to nod at the two of them and say hey before resuming with only a few stutters.

"I think Turney put it in her bag," Gavin said a little louder than necessary, and Lindsay's attention snapped back to him.

"Put wh-"

Gavin raised his eyebrows as high as they'd go and nodded to the side, mouthing "let's go" while he was still sure the others weren't looking.

"Oh, good! I was hoping I'd left it at your place."

Geoff straightened up from behind the fridge door, interrupting himself again. "If you assholes are leaving for an early lunch, you're bringing me back something," he demanded.

"Relax, boss. You know I wouldn't dare eat without you," Lindsay teased.

"Not if you know what's good for you."

He tossed Jack one of the cans he'd pulled from the fridge and swung it shut, waving dismissively as they wandered off.

"Should we talk in the car?" Lindsay asked once she felt they were out of earshot.

"Nah, too cold out. Shouldn't be anyone in Turney's office this time of day. We'll be alright there for a bit."

"As in the office without doors?"

"Me digging through her desk is a lot less shady than us heading outside."

"Hey, they don't know. Maybe we both became hardcore chain smokers within the last month."

She followed after Gavin anyway, shuffling awkwardly as she realized she had no idea what to say while they were walking. She wasn't even 100% sure what she was going to say once they got to Meg's office, or even if that was the best plan. With their luck lately, Ashley would be there editing and they'd have to head outside anyway. She only knew Meg wasn't there because Mondays were always busy recording days for her, while they caught up on the news from the weekend.

Miraculously, Ashley was nowhere to be found.

Gavin immediately plopped down in Meg's chair and began digging through a drawer.

"Well?" he prompted when Lindsay was still silent a good minute later.

"Huh?"

"Out with it, then."

"But you're- oh, you're only pretending to dig through her desk, right," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"Mostly. If I find any change in here it's fair game as far as I'm concerned, I left my wallet at home and there's only one Kit-Kat left in the vending machine."

"If we just went out to the car we could have just gone to 7-11."

"And pay $1.59 when I can get it for 75 cents here? No, thank you."

Lindsay sighed fondly, laughing to herself.

Gavin closed the drawer and clasped his hands on his lap, his knee still bouncing despite the serious gaze he levelled at her.

She stared back for a long moment, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Well?" he repeated.

"What-" she immediately cut herself off, taking a deep breath and wetting her lips before starting again. "What is your problem?"

" _ My _ problem???" he demanded, hands separating to ball up in frustration.

"No, not- fuck. I'm trying to ask why you're still being- being weird about all of our... stuff."

"Well it's rather weird stuff, don't you think? Only fair to be weird about it."

Lindsay cringed. "Yeah. Yeah I guess it is. I think I've just adjusted quickly," she muttered, rocking back on her heels. "Maybe? Damn, now I'm not sure either."

"You've got some nerve, cornering me like that when you don't even have your own head put together." His tone was teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips.

"Sorry," she conceded, mirroring his smile.

"If it helps, I don't blame you for being uptight about it."

"A little." Lindsay shrugged, leaning against the ladder to the bunk above them.

"Michael did kind of lose it this weekend."

Lindsay chuffed, going crosseyed for emphasis. "Tell me about it. I just about lost it at him after you two left."

"That why he apologized?"

"Hopefully it's only why he apologized so quickly. I'm sure he was sorry regardless."

Gavin shrugged, looking back down at the drawers.

"He's bad at being mad at you."

He chuffed a near-silent laugh.

"We can stop, you know," Lindsay said.

"So you've said."

"Yeah, 'cause I mean it. If you're not comfortable..."

"I am comfortable, though."

"Are you sure? I always feel like you're forcing yourself for our sa-"

"Christ, Lindsay. I'm sure," Gavin snapped, stomping his foot for emphasis. "You don't have to baby me about it. I think I'm more than old enough to know whether or not I'm  _ comfortable _ with this rubbish."

Lindsay put her hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I just only know what's going on in my own mind. I never know if any of you are actually okay with this. I mean half the time I'm still not sure if  _ I _ am."

"Well I am very, very sure that I'm okay with it," he answered, folding his lips and leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "I'm sure. I'm too sure," he added, leg jittering faster as he looked away from her as deliberately as possible.

"...Too sure?"

"Yes. Christ.  _ Yes _ ."

"What-"

"That's what my problem is, Lindsay. You wanted to know what my problem is, well, there it is. The one thing I'm  _ not  _ okay with in all of this is  _ that I'm okay with all of it _ ."

Lindsay drew a long deep breath. Her heart was suddenly racing, both from his words and the sudden agitation in his voice. She swallowed before letting the breath go slowly, fingers twitching as she debated reaching out for him. "...Gavin?"

"It's all completely bonkers. I shouldn't be alright with a bloody thing that's going on between all of us, yet here we are."

She wasn't sure how long she stared at him, completely still aside from her still indecisive hand; only that it was long enough for him to finally stop averting his eyes and meet her gaze.

She remembered how lost he'd looked in the Jack in the Box parking lot nearly two months prior.

The only difference now was there was no alcohol to dull his mind, leaving the confusion in his face all the more painful.

"I... hadn't thought about it like that," she said finally.

Except maybe she had. She was a little too scared that he'd managed to put into words what that last unidentified piece of doubt was.

He was just starting to sit back up when a few voices filtered above the background noise, getting louder and closer.

"...should we hide?" Lindsay whispered urgently, glancing over her shoulder.

"I-" Gavin started, then bit his tongue to listen. "Damn it, that's Ryan, isn't it?"

"I think so."

"Hide," he snapped, bolting upright so quickly the chair rolled away and only stopped when it collided with Ashley's. He was on the top bunk with impressive speed and an almost total disregard for the ladder, tucking as far into the shadows against the wall as possible.

Lindsay glanced feverishly between the far end of the walk-through office and the bunk Gavin had just clambered onto, indecision weighing heavy on her. If she left, she might not get a chance to finish sorting through this with Gavin till after work; if she stayed, she risked questions as to why she was there, or worse, why they were there together.

Ryan was close enough now that the syllables were identifiable as words, though she was panicking too much to actually hear them.

She pulled herself up onto the bunk, cringing when it creaked under their combined weight, and sprawled out into her best impression of being asleep, back toward the edge of the bed.

"Hang on, I'm gonna see if Meg's busy," they heard Ryan say.

"'K," Ray answered nonchalantly. An "alright" from Jack followed.

Lindsay held her breath when Ryan's footsteps reached the room, her eyes shooting open wide when the bunk shifted slightly as he leaned on one of the supports to survey the room.

"Huh," he said, shrugging. He noticed the red hair on the bunk and stood on his toes a second to get a closer look. "Whoops, sorry," he whispered, voice going respectfully quiet as he realized his coworker was napping.

A moment later he greeted the others again, telling them he'd just have to catch up with Meg later, and their voices receded toward the door to the parking lot. Lindsay breathed a sigh of relief, tilting her head as far back as she dared while crammed onto a twin mattress six feet in the air. "Fuck," she grumbled, "that was too close."

Gavin squeaked in agreement, the breath he'd been holding escaping with a balloon noise. "Wow-ie."

Before her breathing had even settled, Lindsay's brow furrowed and she turned back to Gavin. "Wait. Why are we hiding from  _ Ryan _ ? You didn't freak out till you realized it was him."

He sighed, managing to cross his arms indignantly in the tight space. "Well, I was freaking out anyway, but… he and Meg are working on something together."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Some kind of show, I think it's a Patch spinoff."

"So?"

"I don't like it."

"Why not?"

He just pouted harder, looking toward the ceiling.

Lindsay snorted a laugh. "Oh my god, you're jealous, aren't you?"

"What? No-"

"You are."

"I'm  _ not _ . And I mean that."

She shrugged, unconvinced. "Okay."

Gavin grumbled. "It's just weird, okay? He's creepy."

Lindsay stifled a laugh.

"AND he's boring."

"Not so much anymore."

"I know, and that just makes him creepier."

"You know Ryan's married, right?"

"Yeah, and so are you, and that hasn't exactly stopped you, now has it?"

Lindsay was speechless, her mouth agape as she stared at him. He knew her confusion was reasonable - he'd just finished telling her he was okay with what they were doing, after all.

"...So would you be okay with them hanging out if Ryan started flirting with you, too?" she teased.

Gavin retched so hard he sounded like he had a hairball.

"Sorry," she said, though she was trying not to laugh. "I don't think they're flirting though, just for the record."

"Of course they're not," Gavin muttered. "I really don't think there's anything like that going on, I already said that. Ryan just gives me the creeps when he's happy, and him being around Turney _ and _ happy at the same time is a good forty times as creepy."

"You afraid she's going to catch his creepiness?"

"Yes!"

"-Seriously?"

"It has to spread somehow. What if he, I don't know, teaches her how to throw bloody knives."

"Meg's not gonna throw a knife at you, Gavin."

"Well, not at me, no, of course not. But what if- gah." He grumbled, rubbing his face in frustration. "It's weird, alright?"

"...Alright."

Gavin sighed.

Lindsay sighed back, closing her eyes.

"If you want down, just let me know," she said a couple minutes later, once it registered that she was between him and the ladder.

"I will," he answered, shifting so his arm was tucked under the pillow. "Honestly, taking an actual nap sounds pretty nice. This whole thing has just been stressful."

Lindsay chuckled. "Maybe I'll join you. On the other bunk, of course."

He smirked. "Yeah, don't need anyone else to find us sharing a bed, much less at the office."

"God, don't remind me," she groaned, shoving her face into the mattress.

Gavin let his eyes shut, expecting to feel sleep drag him down quickly. He waited patiently, half-counting his own breathing to keep his mind from wandering far, half bracing himself for the rocking of the bed when Lindsay finally got down.

He wasn't sure how long had passed when he finally reopened his eyes, only that it was long enough he was starting to worry Lindsay was the one who'd fallen asleep.

She was still awake though, staring somewhere past him, clearly lost in thought. He reached out and poked her gently in the arm, snapping her out of it with a start.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," she assured him. "I was just... I don't know. Thinking about being okay with it, I guess?"

Gavin hesitated, feeling his heart skip a beat. "Were you not already okay with it?"

"No, no, I was," she answered quickly. "I was thinking about... the idea of being okay with it?"

"Oi. Overthinking things is  _ my _ job," he teased.

Lindsay chuckled. "Yeah?"

"I've spent the last couple months trying to convince myself I wasn't okay with any of this. Logically I shouldn't be, after all. We're all in relationships, all of us but Turney are straight, we all live in the public eye..."

"There's a lot to process there, yeah."

"Exactly. And you've known me for years. You know I'm about as good at keeping my mouth shut as Ryan is at not killing things. So me being okay with things isn't just counterintuitive, it's dangerous."

"...How so?"

"I don't know if I trust myself not to blab on us on the podcast or something."

"You kept things quiet about you and Turney for a bit."

"Yeah, until I got too drunk. And I could just not drink on the podcast, sure, but sooner or later someone would notice I wasn't drinking, and I can't keep that up  _ forever _ ."

Lindsay nodded so slowly he wasn't sure she was fully getting his gist.

"Homophobia is part of my shtick, Linds. As awful as that is to say, it's true. It's been the joke since the first time Geoff talked about shoving something up my ass in a video."

Her slow nod only continued, but her eyes went wide enough he was sure she knew where this was going.

"It's kind of hard for me to go straight from 26 years of that nonsense to- to actually liking kissing a guy, alright? Not to mention, if we keep doing this-" he laughed suddenly, rubbing his forehead,    
"Hell, even if we  _ don't _ , since now it's happened and it's happened so much it's not just a funny story of something that happened one time when we were drunk that we can use as a weird anecdote sometime. Sooner or later I'll blurt something out, Lindsay. I can't help it. If something's on my mind, it's going to come out of my mouth eventually. I'll get bevved up and say something on the podcast and then where will we be?"

"You're... that worried about others finding out?"

"I'm that worried about the  _ fans _ finding out, yes."

"Just because of all the Mavin bullshit?"

"Not JUST because, but obviously that's a big part of it. You know how many people tweet Meg every week asking how she likes being a beard? How many people honestly think me and Michael have been together for ages. They hate Meg because of it. Some of them don't even like you."

"So? Fuck 'em. Haters gonna hate, right?"

"That's all well and good, but you're telling me you wouldn't be horrified if your mum and dad found out?"

"I-"

Her eyes dropped, the seconds of silence that followed heavy like fog.

"It's just. If I get too comfortable with this and wind up running my gob, people will find out, and  _ fast _ . If it was just people here, I wouldn't care Linds. So much weird shit goes down here - I could walk right up to someone and go, 'so, Michael touched my knob while we were filming Lazer Team. Went right for it' and everyone would just laugh. No one would believe it. I could tell them I made out with you and Meg at the same time, and they'd just think I was trying to get a rise out of them, or that I was trying to make Michael mad."

"Wait," Lindsay breathed, blinking, "back up. He touched your dick during filming?" A single strained laugh escaped her. "Seriously?"

"Not-"

Gavin froze, eyes wide, taking in the confusion on Lindsay's face before the words " _ during _ filming" could leave his mouth.

_ Michael hadn't told her. _ Not that he'd told Turney yet, either, but he'd thought for sure Lindsay would know. Michael and Lindsay were practically a hivemind.

How were they supposed to handle other people finding out if they couldn't even tell each other things?

"Not my  _ real _ dick," he quickly corrected, voice catching. "The stupid fake one they made me pack as a gag. I was just using an example."

"Oh."

Lindsay let out a long, slow exhale, clearly trying her best not to sigh in relief. Her eyes were darting around, looking anywhere but at him; when they finally settled on his face again, he could tell she was trying to steady herself. From how his heart had raced at realizing she didn't know, he could only imagine how bad hers was hammering.

He hoped to god she wouldn't realize he was lying. It wasn't a  _ total _ lie; that had happened too.

It just wasn't what he meant.

It was his turn to look anywhere but at her, the memory of that night causing him to flush.

"Ah- Anyway," he stammered, trying to clear his head, "even if people believed it... They'd probably just make jokes about needing to lay off the drinking. They wouldn't think anything of it. Hell, Griffon took it harder than anyone in this building would."

"...That's because Griffon took it as us being in some kind of a relationship, not just fooling around," Lindsay whispered.

There was so much weight to her words and her voice that it made Gavin feel like he was sinking, too. He wanted desperately to reach out for her, to touch her face, to assure her things were going to be okay and they'd figure things out, maybe to apologize for bringing any of his worries up and worrying her in return, and especially to apologize for making their conversation spiral back to Griffon's lecture.

His breath was shaking too much to talk, so he settled for the first part.

His fingers brushed Lindsay's cheek so softly it seemed to startle her. Their eyes met and she folded her lips before forcing a smile.

"I'm okay," she insisted quietly.

Gavin brushed a stray lock of her bangs back before resting his palm to her cheek. "Me too," he answered, chuckling weakly.

Lindsay laughed too.

She lurched forward, for whatever measure of forward was even left between them, and clung to him with one arm, hiding her face against his hair. Her laughter was a tad more bitter after that, her fingers tangling in his shirt.

"Lindsay?" Gavin asked quietly, less startled than worried.

She tilted her face down, pressing first a kiss, then her own forehead, to his.

"We're such a bunch of idiots," she said, sniffling.

"Hey," he whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "Turney isn't an idiot."

Lindsay's laughter lightened at that.

So he kissed her.

She held onto him all the tighter, kissing back, covering his lips and cheeks with her attention. She was still holding back tears from the sheer breadth of emotion trapped in her, but physical outlets always suited her the best, so his kisses and the insistent press of his forehead back against hers between them brought a relief that held the tears at bay.

It was so different than the way their kisses had gone before; everything had been so frantic, so needy, fueled by kissing Meg before or by alcohol. For that matter, it was the first time they'd kissed without Meg between them at all, quite literally. Everything was soft and borderline chaste, their hands only straying to hold each other tighter.

As soon as Gavin hugged her, he pulled his hand back again, hiding his arm between them and holding tight to her forearm instead. For a few seconds he'd forgotten himself, forgotten that they were in the office where anyone could walk in at any minute, and that he was still supposed to be hiding behind Lindsay. With that thought in mind, he tried to pull back, intending to tell her it was time to go before they got caught. It felt like they'd had the conversation they needed to have and like anything else needed to be said with everyone else present.

She followed him as he leaned away, her next kiss just barely tugging at his lip.

Well, who was he to leave a girl hanging like that.

So he let her kiss him.

He kissed back too, of course, and eventually hands that were clinging to arms became hands that were clinging to hands, their top arms tucked between them and squeezing tightly as slow kisses soothed them both.

Gavin was starting to feel sleepy, really, thank you very much. Their shared attention was just comfortable and comforting, whether just because that was what they needed or because their subconscious knowledge that they were in the office kept them that much in check, at least. He played with her hair now and again, whispering a gentle, "You're okay. We're okay," against her cheek that earned his hand a tight squeeze.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Any time."

Lindsay closed her eyes and pressing another long kiss to his lips, sighing as she relaxed.

"You know," came a familiar voice from below them.

They both jerked backwards, startled, hands separating, Gavin curling up to make sure Lindsay was shielding him from the outside world.

The realization that it was Michael talking set in a few seconds later, the panic at being discovered fading though the adrenaline remained. Lindsay rolled over onto her stomach, staring down at her husband over the edge of the bunk.

"If you two are going to have an affair, you should probably choose some place a liiiiiittle less public," Michael suggested. His arms were crossed, but the smirk on his face suggested he wasn't all that mad, that he was just hammin it up.

"Geez louise. Say it a little louder so the whole office hears," Lindsay teased.

Michael cupped his hands around his mouth, facing the outside world as he mock-yelled in a quieter voice, "You know, maybe if."

He turned back and grinned when Lindsay started laughing.

Gavin's head peeked up over her shoulder a moment later.

"'ullo, boi," he said sheepishly.

"Hi," Michael answered, rolling his eyes. "Glad to see you two had a good reason to disappear right before it was filming time."

"To be fair, this wasn't why we left."

"Was a nice surprise though," Gavin added. He squeaked as Lindsay deliberately missed elbowing him, then popped back up, looking proud of himself.

Michael frowned for a few seconds too long.

"You have no shame, do you?" he asked.

"Speak for yourself, boi."

Michael shrugged. "I'll give you that one." Then, "Anybody know you're here?"

"Ryan saw me and thought I was napping," Lindsay supplied. "Operation Hide Gavin seems to have been successful, though."

"Alright then. Gav, you come back with me. Lindsay, you should probably fake sleep a little longer, just in case anyone sees us walking out of here."

"Aye aye, captain."

She scooted up a bit, letting Gavin climb around her legs to hop off the ladder. Satisfied she was out of the way, she looked back at Michael, still grinning.

His eyes were glued to Gavin, his face neutral but stern, his arms still crossed.

Lindsay's smile fell. She let her arm dangle off the edge, wiggling her fingers at Michael to try and get his attention. "Babe?"

He snapped out of it, shaking his head before turning to take her hand.

Lindsay squeezed his hand tightly. "Sweetie?"

"Be more careful," he muttered, kissing her knuckles before resting his forehead on her arm.

"...'kay," she whispered.

"Sleep well." 

She chuckled, taking her hand back. "Probably going to just dick around on my phone for a while, let's be real."

Michael rolled his eyes, then turned to Gavin, who was straightening out his shirt where Lindsay's grip had pulled it askew. "You're both idiots, you know that, right?" he said, patting Gavin on the shoulder.

"Yeah, but we're  _ your _ idiots," he pointed out in return.

Michael just rolled his eyes again. "Whatever. Come on, Geoff's waiting and he's hungry so he's extra whiny."

"I'm kind of hungry myself."

"Too bad," Michael answered him as their voices started to trail back towards their office.

"Buy me lunch, Michael."

"Buy yourself lunch, you rich fuck."

"But Micoo."

"No."

" _ Micoo _ ."

" _ No _ ."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so, that's why."

"But I'm  _ hungry _ ."

Michael sighed. "Okay fine. After we're done filming. Maybe." 

"Hurray!"

 

* * *

 

 

Michael's backpack hit the floor just inside the living room, his shoes quickly following. Behind him, Lindsay locked the front door, and he heard the shuffle as she started to kick her own shoes off and into the corner.

He closed his eyes tightly, focusing on that sound, and tried to count slowly to still his mind.

Lindsay barely had a chance to turn around before he had her pinned to the front door, hands holding her there by the wrists, lips covering hers like his life depended on her kiss.

She gasped when he finally pulled back, panting for air.

He stared hard into her eyes, loosening his grip and waiting just enough to give her a chance to turn him down; however desperate he was, however rough they often were with each other, he would still rather die than force himself on her, so he waited, licking his lips, his weight held off her with the last threads of his restraint.

Lindsay leaned forward to kiss him, not quite as ferocious but still eager, and he couldn't help but growl into her mouth.

He pinned her again, full force. His hands slid up from her wrists to trail up her palms and intertwine with hers, holding them to the wall above her head; his body pressed flush to hers across every inch that was practical, separating somewhere around the knees only out of a necessity for balance. Michael was already hard and he made no attempt to hide it, though for the time being he managed to resist rutting against her. His lips ravaged hers, his kisses deep but sloppy, desperate to pull the same sorts of moans from her he could already hear escaping himself. His hands slipped away from hers, grazed down her wrists, dropped all at once to touch her face, her neck, anywhere he could while he left her free to wrap her arms around him.

Michael kissed her in a frenzy, holding her face in his hands while he covered every inch of it, combing them back into her hair as he followed her hairline, then gently tilting her head to the side when he returned to her neck. He was hurried but thorough; his kisses found every bit of her skin that was exposed from her hair to her shirt collar; his thumbs caressing her jaw, her neck, the cuff of her ear, even her lips just to feel her breath start to heat against it.

He pulled back only once he ran out of air from being hidden against her skin for too long. He gasped for breath, bracing against the door with the hand not still cradling her face. Their eyes locked as he panted, his attention leaving only to watch his thumb tracing her lips before returning.

"Michael?"

Her voice was hoarse, throat tight from the sudden rush of hormones and how quickly her lungs had heated.

It was a sound that shot straight through him, taking him from just emotionally desperate to rock hard to boot.

He kissed her hard, sinking against her as he did, groaning when he felt her moan and relax into the door behind her.

"Lindsay," he answered, pulling just far enough away to focus on her eyes. "Lindsay. God. Linds."

He was shivering, maybe even quivering, from the intensity of the tangled emotions inside of him. She was so incredible, so perfect, so gorgeous - he loved her, he wanted her, heaven knew he'd taken her right there against that door so many times, and others had started to only for her to laugh and carry him off to bed. It was a ritual they both knew well and that she'd sometimes tease him into in the car.

But so much of his mind was screaming with jealousy, his thoughts too jumbled to articulate but just persistent enough there was no way he could keep his face entirely steady, no matter how much desperation he piled on top of them.

Her hands were gentle - too gentle, he knew she was worried from the softness of that touch alone - as she cupped his cheeks in her hands and pressed a single kiss to his lips.

"You okay?" she whispered.

He hoped if he kissed her hard enough, she'd forget the question.

At the least, she was willing to take it as an answer, kissing back and letting him keep her pinned to the door. Her hands slipped on down his body, tracing his chest and the edges of his ribs, then up his back beneath his open sweatshirt. Michael pulled back just far enough to balance on his feet without the door, hastily pulling the sweatshirt off behind his back. He jerked the sleeves off and shimmied the shoulders down when they got stuck at his elbows, then chucked the shirt onto his backpack. All through it, every instant that he could, he kept kissing Lindsay, pulling back only when he had to, looking away only long enough to aim his throw.

She pushed him back as soon as he had her pinned again, but before he could question it she was already yanking her shirt over her head, her aim far more haphazard than his as she threw it past. She grinned before dropping back to the door, dragging him close by grabbing his shirt in the middle of his chest.

Michael kissed the newly exposed stretches of her skin with abandon, working across her shoulder blades, dragging his fingers down her sides, under the band of her bra, dancing them along where the ends of her hair just barely grazed her skin...

There had to be some level of touch that would let him shut it all out. He didn't want to  _ forget _ what he'd seen there at the office, at least, not permanently. It had only been the tops of their heads, but their faces had been unmistakably close together, so he'd known, there was nothing else they could be doing, it was too close for just whispering...

They'd kissed before. He knew that. But he'd not seen it, not really. One cheeky, quick kiss in the supermarket was far different than obvious making out, and while he knew it had been so much tamer there at the office than what they'd done that weekend he'd been in LA...

There was such a huge difference between knowing it had happened and seeing it.

There shouldn't be that big of a difference. He knew it was happening. He'd watched Lindsay kiss Meg a hundred times by now. She'd been watching him kiss Gavin for how long? And she'd never shown a sign of being bothered by it - quite the contrary. And alright, that was different, that was the same as her kissing Meg, right? He knew it shouldn't have been different, that it was awful that some small part of him still considered Meg as not counting on some level, because - because why, anyway? He'd outright given her permission to have sex with her - god, his wife had had sex with another woman, had been touched by her in ways that only he did, and he'd let her, he'd let her gladly even though he wouldn't get to see, just because she wanted to and he loved her and -fuck, fuck, had what he'd done with Gavin really been much better? No, no, he'd not had sex with Gavin, that wasn't- it didn't count, it wasn't like that, it wasn't what Lindsay had asked to be able to do, what he'd seen them come inches from doing again to the side of him while Gavin ground on his lap that weekend.

Was that why he hadn't asked her how it had gone? Why he hadn't teased Meg yet about experiencing the wonders of Lindsay's touch? He'd given her permission but- why? Did Meg really not count in that way in his mind?? Was that why it bothered him so much more to see her kissing Gavin than to see her kissing Meg?

Suggestions swam in his mind and he hated them all, hated some more than others.

_ It's just jealousy. I'm used to seeing her with Meg. I used to hate it. I'm used to it now. I'm not used to her and Gavin. _

His hands dug into Lindsay's jeans, slipping into her back pockets to squeeze her ass and drag her tight against his body. Her fingers were working their way under his collar, playing at the nape of his neck and the ridges of his spine. Her touch was a wonderful distraction, and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to lose himself in it.

She reached down, taking hold of a belt loop and yanking him close. He rutted into her, more than happy to oblige, even if the sensation was still muffled by so many layers of clothing.

He gasped, resting his forehead to her shoulder, heart suddenly pounding.

Grinding his dick on his wife shouldn't remind him of grinding his dick on his best friend. Not even by reference, let alone by vivid flashback.

It was just the jealousy, he was sure of it. The jealousy and the possessiveness that was causing it and nevermind how many times he'd fucked her in the last week, he'd been blocking that night with Gavin out of his head the whole time, doubly so after Saturday night, so just having Gavin on the brain was enough to finally drag it back out.

He groaned, leaning up to kiss her, grabbing at her chest with one hand because boobs, there were boobs there, they were Lindsay's and they were familiar and they felt so incredibly soft in his grip.

Her eyes were too worried for him to stand when he pulled back.

"Michael?" she asked quietly. The concern in her voice alone was enough to cool him by a couple degrees, but that was exactly what he didn't want, was to lose momentum and let himself think again.

"I-" he stammered, swallowing hard. He squeezed her ass with the hand still in her pocket, hard, almost too hard he knew, but Lindsay bit her lip at the attention, eyes shutting in concentration to stifle a moan. He panted for a moment, regaining his mental footing as relief trickled to the front of his mind. "I just. I've never seen you kiss him before and- fuck," he cursed, shaking his head. He pressed needy kisses to her jaw, forehead pressed into her temple so he could speak beside her ear without having to look her in the eye. "I'm like a damn dog, I don't know. I have to get his scent back off you."

Her laughter, bright and sincere against his ear, turned the trickle of relief into a full out flood.

"Is that all?" she teased, kissing his shoulder.

"Something like that," he answered, nipping at her neck. It was so, so much more than that, but if she was willing to take that as an answer, he was more than happy to leave the rest out until he had it sorted out.

Lindsay hummed her approval into his ear, wrapping her arms tight around him to hold him as flush to her as possible. "Well," she said, voice dropping to an alluring whisper, "if this is how you're going to react, maybe I should kiss Gavin in front of you more often?"

Michael bit down until he was sure any further would break skin, his left hand joining his right on her ass so that when he bucked against her next he could grind exactly where he wanted to. She groaned out loud, laughed, then moaned again at the attention, breathy laughs mixed in with her continued reactions as he grappled with her jeans and stripped them off her, roughly fingering her through her panties before he even had them unzipped the whole way. He held her tight with his free arm, keeping her face close to his ear so he could hear her whine and call out at his touch. 

When she finally reached down and grabbed his dick in return, he growled into her neck, holding her close by her hair while he pressed a long kiss behind her jaw. She started to stroke and he sucked at the spot instead. His fingers sped up until her breath started to catch, a hiccup of a gasp escaping her before her nails dug into his back.

" _ Fuck _ . Michael."

Just hearing her call out his name was enough to make his balls tighten.

His hand pulled back from between her legs, taking hold of her thigh and using it to coax her to spin around. She clung to his neck in resistance, kissing him deeply for as long as she could, but eventually the eagerness to hurry up and feel him inside her made her relent.  Lindsay waited until the last possible moment to finally stop kissing him, her head craned back over her shoulder and tongue wrapped up with his until he pushed her into the door.

Michael had loosened his own pants in the meantime, leaving them pooled around his ankles, the waistband of his boxers hooked under his package and leaving it completely free to grind against Lindsay's ass as soon as he jerked her panties down. He pushed them down as far as he could reach, running his hands up and down her thighs a few times afterwards in time with his slow hot dogging.

He pressed his lips into the back of her shoulder, humming against her skin, then groaning as he let his cock slip between her legs and rub against her wet slit finally. He breathed her name against her neck. One hand brushed her hair aside, leaving her skin clear for his lips to travel. She squirmed between him and the wall, whimpering and pushing her hips back to meet him, trying to find the right angle to get him into her instead of merely teasing her entrance after his fingers had left her so wet and wanting.

When Michael finally obliged her, it was with his teeth sunk into her shoulder again.

She gasped and called out for him again, shoving herself back against him, tilting her hips to give him a better angle in what room she had between him and the wall. He lay against her back, one hand tight to her hips and the other wrapped across her chest, pounding her with a reckless abandon he hadn't known since his first night back from LA, and double the need.

Flashes still crossed his mind, though.

The sensations were different, and that helped; there was a huge difference between a hand and fabric vs a dripping wet pussy, in terms of dick attention. This was a hundred times better, if it could even be measured.

But the wall.

His eyes were clamped shut so he wouldn't open them and catch a glimpse of his friend there, where he wasn't. He knew it was Lindsay - her hair, her smell, her voice, the nails digging into his wrist, keeping his grip fastened to her hip, it was all her, no mistaking. But his brain wasn't replacing her, it was adding.

His memory of pinning Gavin to that wall and kissing him until neither of them could breathe clipped together with his wife's gasps in front of him and the persistent, nagging knowledge that she'd been kissing him earlier. The idea that they had that in common now - had for weeks, but he'd been so willfully ignoring it until it had been right there in his face - they both knew what it was like to feel Gavin moan against their lips, to be frustrated by how light and playful he kissed, to have his fingers tangled in their shirt, maybe even to feel the needy shifts of his hips as things got too heated.

Michael's imagination beckoned him to lean over her shoulder and kiss a Gavin that was pinned to the wall by them  _ both _ , trapped by their joined bodies and shuddering with anticipation at his predicament. Michael ignored that urge for all he was worth, ducking his head to kiss down Lindsay's spine instead, concentrating on the sounds she was making, the moans and groans and curse words that he was making her make. He couldn't let himself wonder what Gavin had thought of those sounds-

-or what Meg had thought of those sounds, fuck, Gavin would have only heard previews, but Meg would have-

He groaned louder, both from the effort it took to push the thought deeper into his mind yet again, and at how close the image shoved him to the edge whether he liked it or not. He held tight to Lindsay, trying to brace himself and slow down enough to not finish on the spot.

She recognized his hesitation and held still; she knew from experience that even if he came now, she'd still get her turn, but she was always more than happy to prolong sex as much as possible.

Just the same, she whimpered at every shift of his hips, eyes clamped shut as her patience was tested.

Composure regained, Michael let out a long, slow breath against her back, then continued fucking her as hard as he could.

His hips shifted as she rose up on her toes, giving them both more space to move. She squeezed his hand where it was clutching her hips, as though fastening it to that spot; his grip tightened at her coaxing, assuring her he wasn't going anywhere. Her hand slipped away from his, dropping to between her legs.

The moan that followed almost made him need to pause once more.

Michael groaned, his forehead bowing against the back of her neck. He all but whimpered her name, his face tightened into a wince of concentration. She felt too good under him, sounded too good, and the only thing he could think to do to thank her was to fuck her harder. He gritted his teeth, cursing against her skin, growling her name like it was a curse on its own, his concentration devoted to finding a balance between the instinct to cum and the want to never stop being inside her.

(-If he came in her, that would really mark her as his again, because that was something Gavin could never have, something Meg was physically incapable of having-)

His teeth grazed down her neck and back to her shoulder, biting her again where he knew she liked it best, growling victoriously when it left her moaning and momentarily weak in the knees.

He was beyond desperate at this stage, the sensation of her body against and around him finally starting to drown out the rambling in his head. He could focus on the here and now, on the high pitched gasps coming from under him as Lindsay got closer, on her smell, on the way her nails scratched against the door as her less busy hand tried to find something to hang on to.

But in pushing himself by hanging on the edge for so long, Michael was starting to feel himself hitch, his legs tiring.

_ No. _

The only trouble with having her pinned from behind was it made kissing damn near impossible. He'd left more than enough tooth indents in her already, not to mention a month's worth of hickeys, but his lips were desperate for something to do, someone to kiss.

If the others were there... If he could kiss one of them...

" _ Fuck _ ," he cursed, hiding his face into her shoulder.

All the sensations of making out with Meg rushed back to him, his breathing going erratic as he thought about how much she'd teased, the way her hands had squeezed at his shoulders, how deep but gentle her kisses were, in further contrast to the other kisses he'd had even more time to get accustomed too.

He forced his eyes open, letting a hot breath out against Lindsay's neck just to feel her shiver under him. He wouldn't mind kissing Meg while fucking Lindsay, not at all. He felt like he probably wouldn't mind watching them kiss each other while he fucked Linsday, either. It was a nice image to say the least, and his imagination was more than happy to supply it.

...until he remembered earlier, when he'd caught her and Gavin making out, and suddenly she was kissing him instead.

But if his imagination was going to keep playing that game, he'd have to stay one step ahead of it. It had supplied the memory of Gavin pinned to the wall, had supplied the idea of Lindsay pinned between them and of her kissing Gavin. But if Gavin wanted to kiss his wife, he had to go Michael first. Nudging her head to the side to make out with his boi over her shoulder - yeah, that felt right, that sounded right, that made his dick twitch and another surge of adrenaline reinvigorate his tired legs.

He pushed Lindsay's hand out of the way for good measure, pressed his own fingers into her clit instead, shuddered head to toe at the way her voice quivered when she moaned at his touch. He rubbed her clit with the same reckless abandon he was fucking her with, and the way her hand grabbed onto his wrist for dear life only encouraged him all the more.

He was glad her hand was still attached to his, because he was on the verge of imagining- no, remembering the look in Gavin's eyes as they all but rolled back. He could almost hear his desperate panting as he hung on the edge of orgasm, held there by Lindsay's hand fervently-

No, Michael's hand-

But no, Michael's hand was busy, he was still toying with Lindsay's clit, almost holding her up by that hand and his dick as her legs quivered under her. Her nails were starting to hurt his arm, she was that close to cumming, and god how Michael wanted her to cum, wanted her pussy to send him over and milk him dry, no matter how many rounds that took.

"You gonna cum?" he taunted, fingers not slowing in the slightest. "I know you want to fucking cum right now. My dick wants to cum in you so bad. Fucking cum already, cum for me," he urged, chanting the words below her ear, talking to them both by now. He wanted to be making out with them both, he wanted to fuck Lindsay like there was no tomorrow with Gavin trapped where he'd have no choice but to watch, wanted to feel Meg's eyes on him as he kept them both pinned to the wall, to know she was eagerly plotting how to get a turn.

No, he just wanted to fuck his wife, to give the most amazing woman in the whole universe the kind of orgasm she deserved, to know she would spend the rest of the day filled with his seed and covered with his kiss marks. Then he wanted to do the same on the couch, and the kitchen counter, and maybe even that bunk at work-

There was no dramatic cursing or cry of his name, just a strangled whine as Lindsay came, her whole body quivering between him and the door. She gasped for breath, letting go of his wrist and grappling at the door, trying to figure out how to stay standing after the intensity of her orgasm. She failed, feet starting to slip, and they both grabbed for the doorknob as he followed her down, sinking to their knees almost painfully fast, his dick never leaving her even as moving became almost impossible from the sheer persistence of the waves of her orgasm.

"Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay," he chanted against her spine, breathing only deeply enough to get the word out each time, the short breaths leaving him dizzy, the dizziness making his hips stutter. But he needed her, needed to be grounded in her, needed to be pushed over the edge by her pleasure in both concept and the actual sensation of her cunt squeezing his cock and her still pushing back onto him, needed to kiss her or to kiss Gavin as he let out a cry of his own from where he was pinned by them both-

By the time his eyes focused again, Michael could feel the cum dribbling back down his balls, dripping onto their legs and the floor below. His arms were wrapped tight around her chest, their bodies bowed forward to rest against the door, and the cool surface felt good against his cheek as a contrast to the heat they'd worked up.

He dropped a hand back between her legs, ran his fingers over the messy juncture of their bodies, tried to start rubbing her clit again with two cum-slick fingers, only to have his hand gently slapped away and then captured to be pressed against her heart instead.

"Give me a minute," Lindsay whimpered, shivering when she took a deep breath. "...And let's get off this floor," she added as an afterthought.

He chuckled, nodding and squeezing her tight for a moment before letting her go. He winced as she stood up and he slipped out of her, both from how tender he was in the afterglow and at the sudden loss of her warmth. As she walked into the living room, he flopped all the way down on his back, savoring the coolness of the tile through his Tshirt.

She was upside down from his view, but he could still see Lindsay make a face as she pulled her panties clear off and tossed them, then her bra, onto the couch.

"I don't know about you, but I'm a mess now," she told him. "I'm thinking we could both use a shower."

"You got that right," he answered. His voice was still hoarse from chanting for her, and he chuckled at the way it hitched.

"I'll go get the water running?"

"You read my mind."

He watched her retreat - her ass was every bit as lovely upside down as any other direction - then heaved a long sigh, getting to his feet with some difficulty. The jealousy seemed washed from Michael's system, that much he was grateful for, but something inside him was still aching with need and he wasn't sure he could fuck her enough to quell it before his legs would just give up on him.

He rubbed the fingers he'd touched her with together; the cum was already turning sticky. He definitely did need a shower to get it off.

And then he needed to pin her to the tile and keep fucking her until he was too exhausted to imagine anything anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you, I could repeat it until I ran out of characters in the text box but I won't. I cannot believe you guys put up with me taking 11 months to update (and what's more, losing track of time enough that I thought for sure it'd only been about six). I love writing this story so much and having my brain get, once again, hung up and refuse to let me write sex scenes has been the fuck you icing on the mental health garbage can cake, especially when the scenes in this one are obviously so important to the overall build-up. They still didn't turn out how I wanted them to, but that's just your bog standard "the characters aren't doing what I thought they would" bullshit.
> 
> Specific thank yous as always to the people who help me get this shit written. There are so many of you this time that I'm scared to list you in case I forget someone; there's at least a half dozen people who've had to deal with me drunk and e-screaming at 2 in the morning, their time zone or mine, thrusting a few paragraphs in their face and asking where the fuck I'd gone wrong. You guys are my lifeblood and I couldn't do this without you.
> 
> Seeing that total tick over 150,000 words is the scariest moment of my life, let me tell you. I didn't know I could even write this much on a single ship, let alone plotline. I think we're past the halfway point but who even knows anymore. And knowing this will pass 10,000 views soon, and just... don't get me started on the kudos or the comments, it's honestly terrifying to me. Exciting and exhilarating but my heart doesn't know how to handle it, everything about Day by Day is on a scale exponentially larger than anything I'm used to.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of everything in the comments. I've been told my smut's too wordy before and I don't want to bore or lose anyone going forward.
> 
> As an extra note/shameless plug, I figured out part of my problem was I needed to stop cornering myself and saying "no, you can't write anything else until this is done" because it just put extra pressure (something I should have known but have to relearn periodically). I partially owe the sudden return of my mojo to me giving in to the urge to write Overwatch smut. None of it's been posted yet (because I got back to this halfway through that) (maybe I just need things to procrastinate on so that I do other things), but if lesbians with guns is your thing you may want to find your way to my regular AO3 account via tumblr.


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